Home Improvement Project
by kyla713
Summary: Bella Swan would have been content to never leave Forks again after college, but an inheritance from her grandmother changed all that. Sometimes, a little change makes all the difference.
1. Tentative Tenant

**A/N: So, a while back, I was having a conversation with friends, and this story idea popped up. And as one of the said friends was myonlyheroin, and tomorrow is her birthday, I decided to post the first chapter as an early birthday present for her, as she's been begging me to do for just about a year now. So, I hope you have a very happy birthday, lovely lady! **

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**Chapter 1 – Tentative Tenant**

I honestly never saw myself living so far away from Forks. Even when the time came to go to college, and I left for Seattle, the feeling of homesickness was overwhelming. I couldn't wait for the four years to pass so I could return home and to a normal pace.

However, in my junior year, Grandma Swan passed away and left me her duplex rental property in Bellevue in her will. My dad then did his best to convince me that a "podunk" town like Forks would only hold me back and living closer to the city could offer more opportunity for me. I argued with him for a good year, since there was no way I was leaving my dad alone to fend for himself any longer than I had to.

Then I returned home for Christmas in my senior year, and I was blown away. I'd arrived early to surprise him, but it appeared that the tables had been turned. My childhood home was barely recognizable, while still not losing all of its charm. It seemed brighter and more lively, and even those God awful yellow walls in the kitchen, compliments of my mother before the divorce, were now a soft, subtle blue. The only things that hadn't changed were everything that made the house my dad's, such as the fishing paraphernalia all around, the tacky lamp he loved so much standing beside the recliner in the living room that I swore was older than I was, and of course, my father himself, seated upon it and drinking a can of his favorite beer.

The biggest difference, however, was my dad himself. His eyes appeared to have lost about ten years, he was so relaxed, and the smile he wore was brighter than I could recall seeing since before my mom left when I was four.

He was happy, and it wasn't long before I discovered why.

My jaw hit the floor when Sue Clearwater, a woman I had known all my life, walked through the door, arms laden with bags of groceries and calling out to my dad. "Hey, honey, I have a couple more bags in the car, if you wouldn't mind grabbing them while I put this stuff away?"

My wide eyes shot over to my father, and I caught the hint of a blush tinging his cheeks as he passed by me to head outside. I knew he had been seeing someone for a few months, but he had never divulged who, let alone that she had now moved in with him. Later that afternoon, they explained that they had wanted to sit down with me in person and tell me. Knowing how much I had loved Sue's husband, Harry, who had died three years before, they thought it might have upset me. Yet, I couldn't have been happier. Sue was still far too young to bury herself away, and my dad had been so lonely for so many years—they both deserved a second chance at happiness. That feeling only grew as I watched them together over my time at home, seeing how happy they made each other and how well they took care of one another. I couldn't have imagined anyone more perfect for my father, and vice versa—they were even each other's fishing buddies!

Even with the strange ache I felt at the knowledge that my dad really didn't need me to take care of him anymore, it was also the nudge _I _needed to start looking toward my own future. So that semester, I opted out of the dorm and moved into one side of Grandma's duplex, using the other half to store my things from back in Forks and some of my grandmother's old furniture. Yet, finding a job in video game design after graduation proved a far more difficult and competitive field than I had anticipated, and within a few months, the savings from my part-time job was running dangerously low, and they weren't hiring full-time, either. I considered renting the other half out to help with expenses and property taxes that were coming up; though I'd miss the quiet and extra space, paying the bills and eating were far more important.

Fortunately, it wasn't too long after that decision that I was contacted to do some freelance work, that I could do mostly from home, on a trial basis, which eventually became a permanent position. It was a very small company, just starting out, but it was enough to get my feet wet, so to speak, as well as some experience. It also not only gave me an income and flexible hours but drastically reduced my gas expenditures by not having to commute to the downtown Seattle office every day—thereby eliminating my immediate need for a tenant.

As time passed, though, I began to get restless, being home a majority of the time, aside from the occasional meeting and my morning and early evening jogs. Then every time I mowed the back yard, I couldn't help but notice how boring it was. There was a single, skinny tree about twenty feet beyond my back door, and that was it. Even the grass was patchy at best, and all of that brought the homesickness back again.

My dad had always taken meticulous care of our yard in Forks. The grass was always lush and green in the spring and summer, our shrubs were neat and trimmed, and we had tall, beautiful trees that would litter the ground with leaves in the fall. Some of my favorite memories as a kid was being outside with my dad, raking them into a pile, and then grinning at each other devilishly before running and jumping in the middle together to see how far they would spread out again.

I wanted experiences like that with my own kids someday; not that I was in any rush. I wasn't even twenty-five yet, and it wasn't as if I'd been actively out there looking for so much as a date, but there was nothing wrong with dreaming.

However, there was no way I could do all I wanted to on my income alone, even with minimal expenses. So, I finally decided to clean out the other half, have a yard sale, and post a listing for the rental.

I'd had a few bites over the past few months, but none of them had panned out. Either it was just a little too far outside the city for them, or the rent, while reasonable for the area, was out of their price range, or something. I had _almost_ decided to remove the listing and just deal with my dull yard, when a strange number came across my caller id. Not recognizing it and assuming it was a scam, I ignored it as I usually did, but was surprised when my phone notified me that I had a voicemail, and a rather lengthy one at that—just over a full minute. I selected it and put it on speaker, again stunned that it was an actual person and not some automated message telling me that Windows had expired on my PC…when I owned a Mac.

Nothing could have prepared me for the voice that came through, though.

_Hello, Miss Swan. My name is Edward Cullen, and I came across your listing online for the rental property you are offering. Currently, I am in Manchester in the UK, waiting on an immigration process, but I will be in need of a residence when I return in a month. Obviously, I will not be able to do a walkthrough or anything in person before that time, but I had a few questions to ask…"_

He finished off the voicemail by leaving his contact information, both phone number and email address, and a soft, somewhat nervous "cheers…err… bye".

Embarrassingly, I had to listen to the message four times. Between his soft, sexy voice and the accent that made it just that much more alluring, I wasn't paying one hundred percent attention to what he said as much as how he was saying it. By the fourth time, I gave myself a mental smack to stop being so shallow and listened to the whole message straight through, jotting down the information.

I debated for a moment whether I should email him first or just call back. Clearly, with an email, I wouldn't have to worry about bumbling over my words and trying to form a single coherent word, but I needed to get over that. Even as only a potential tenant, he would rightfully expect me to be professional and conduct myself accordingly. Besides, just because the voice and accent were pretty, didn't mean the man himself would be appealing.

Boy, was I ever wrong about that.


	2. Sign the Line

**A/N: Since it is now officially myonlyheroin's birthday, I thought I would post another chapter for her and the rest of you as well. :)**

**A couple questions popped up in reviews that I thought I would also answer as well. **

**Age difference between Bella and Edward. Bella is 24 by the time Edward comes along, and yes, it is pretty young to be a property owner. Edward is 30. So not **_**too**_** much of an age difference. **

**Edward's accent—yes, it is a Mancunian accent, so it's not Rob's accent, but based on a few other celebrities and such that I've heard with this accent. Gave it something a little different in my head :)**

**Now, to meet Edward. Hope you enjoy him as much as myonlyheroin and I do, and HAPPY BIRTHDAY AGAIN, SWEETS!**

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**Chapter 2 – Sign the Line**

The day I opened the door to find Edward Cullen on the other side, I literally felt a little head rush, and I think I even made him a bit uncomfortable when I didn't say anything at first.

"Miss Swan?" he inquired, glancing down once again at the slip of paper he held in his hand, which I noticed had my address written on it.

I quickly shook myself out of my daze and gave him a smile. "Yes. And it's still Bella, Edward."

Edward ducked his head shyly as I gestured for him to enter while I gathered the keys and rental agreement for him. Through the entire month of our correspondence regarding the details of him moving in, he had always been very polite—almost annoyingly so. It took me a good week and a half to convince him that, since I wasn't just going to be his landlord, but also his neighbor, it would be far less awkward if we dropped the formalities. Yet, now it seemed that the nervousness I had noticed in that first phone message had reappeared.

"Would you like some coffee or something? Or no, you'd probably do tea, right?" I asked, stammering over my words—apparently, his nervousness was contagious.

"No, thank you. I'm fine," Edward replied softly with the hint of a smile tugging at his lips. "No offense, but American tea is not proper tea."

I nodded politely, but as I turned toward the counter, I mumbled under my breath in the worst possible imitation of a British accent. "Well, excuse me, aren't we the snob."

A breathy laugh sounded behind me, and I brought my hand to my forehead, admonishing myself for abandoning my filter so unprofessionally with my tenant in our very first face-to-face interaction. I quickly made an apology, glancing over my shoulder at him again, and he shook his head. "It's all right. I'm rather accustomed to that assumption, actually."

"I still shouldn't have said it. I'm sorry."

"Apology accepted." His smile was kind, and I couldn't help but take another moment to gaze at him.

He was tall, but then again, it wasn't difficult to fall under that category in comparison to my own five-foot-four stance. Yet, for some reason, I hadn't imagined him being _so_ tall—even though his paperwork had him listed as approximately six-foot-one—any more than I had expected the mass of unruly hair, loose jeans, and flannel shirt combo he had going on. When I saw his profession as an occupational therapist on his application, somehow, I envisioned a suit and tie kind of guy, with neatly combed hair. Then, I internally cursed myself.

_Don't be a fucking moron, Bella. Even if he __was_ _a suit and tie professional, he's not working right now, and he just got off a flight of an ungodly length—of course, he's going to be dressed comfortably and perhaps be a little disheveled._

I quickly shook off my thoughts and moved around the counter island, gesturing toward the items in front of me. "Here are the keys to both the front and the back door, knob and deadbolt. Water and electric are already turned on, so you're all set there. All I need is for you to sign the rental agreement, and we're good to go."

Once again, I was ridiculously taken off-guard when he picked up the pen with his left hand and scribbled his signature on the line.

_Seriously, what is wrong with me today? Like being left-handed is such an anomaly? Your own father is left-handed, Swan!_

Edward slid the sheet of paper and the pen toward me again and picked up the keys. "All right, I guess I will just go and get myself settled in. Thank you again for being so accommodating to my situation."

"No problem. If you need anything or there's any issue with the apartment, let me know. You know where I live."

I was about to curse myself for my lame joke, but he actually turned to me as I walked him to the door, giving me a small smile and the corners of his eyes wrinkled adorably. "I will keep that in mind."

.

.

.

I honestly didn't know what I had been expecting in a tenant, but Edward Cullen certainly wasn't it. The first few weeks flew by, and if I hadn't been paying attention, I might not have even remembered that I had a neighbor at all a majority of the time. For the most part, he was very quiet, except for the instances that I could hear piano music playing in the evenings through the very thin wall between us. Yet, since I _was_ paying attention, I could set a clock by his schedule in the morning; alarm at 5:45 a.m., shower by 6:15—again, _very_ thin wall and loud plumbing—and out the door at 7:00 on the dot.

Yet, it was the nightly routine that made me a bit sad. He would arrive home no later than 6:00 p.m., order take-out, and then complete silence on his side of the house by 9:30. Even on the weekends when he didn't work, he never had any company—the only visitors he had were the delivery people dropping off his dinner for the evening.

So, when he knocked on my door the first Friday of the month to pay his rent, I went out on a limb and invited him inside for dinner. I wasn't much of a social butterfly myself, but the thought of him spending another Friday night all alone, ordering take-out rather than having a home-cooked meal, truly upset me. Especially since I had made my usual Friday night roast beef dinner that I would normally take the leftovers to my dad for my weekly visit that wasn't happening that week, so I'd made more than I would ever eat on my own. I wasn't expecting him to accept, but I had to admit, I was glad when he shyly did so and thanked me with earnest gratitude.

"That was excellent, Bella. Thank you. I haven't had a good roast dinner since the night before I left home," Edward said after a soft hum of appreciation once he'd finished eating. "Mum made a pretty big deal of it and had the whole family over like it was a holiday gathering or something."

I watched a sad smile touch his lips as he spoke, his gaze lowered to his lap. I took a sip of my beer before setting it down and folding my arms on the table, leaning forward a little. "You really must miss it, huh? Back home?"

Edward's eyes met mine briefly, and he nodded with a shrug. "Yeah, I mean my family's there, it's where I spent most of my life. I had friends and a good job there. And I _really _miss my mother's Yorkshire pudding. I get homesick every now and then, as anyone would."

"I can't even imagine. I mean, here I am, bummed out that I won't get to see my dad tomorrow because I have a presentation, and he's only a car ride away. I wouldn't even want to think of how it would be to have to go longer than a couple of weeks away from him or Forks," I replied, feeling an ache in my heart with just that passing notion. "You can totally tell me to mind my own business, but can I ask what made you decide to come back over here then?"

"I don't mind," he began, resting his elbow on the table with his chin in palm, and shook his head. "I certainly didn't intend for it to be a permanent thing when I initially accepted the job offer. It was only for three years and in the exact field I wanted to focus on—working with children with down syndrome, severe autism, and other forms of special needs. So, I figured it was worth a shot."

"Wow, that's awesome. And there wasn't anything back there like that?" I inquired curiously.

"There was, but no open positions at the time. I figured I could use my skills to help some kids who really needed it, while at the same time, gain the experience in the field, so that when a position became available back home, I'd be even better qualified."

"But you came back instead of staying home," I pressed, my curiosity really getting the better of me.

Edward glanced at me for a moment, and then nodded affirmatively. "For a while, I wasn't sure I was going to. My girlfriend certainly didn't want to remain in the States."

My eyebrows suddenly shot up with his words. Thinking back, I could have sworn he stated that he was single both on the application and in our phone conversation, and he had never mentioned a significant other at any point. "Your girlfriend?"

"_Former_ girlfriend," he corrected himself, his eyes pinching closed as if realizing a huge mistake. "Still getting used to that."

"You were together a long time, then?" I asked, not even sure why I was inquiring.

"For the better part of eight years. We started dating in uni, but we weren't going to ever think about the next stage until we were both situated in our careers. Guess it's a good thing," he remarked with an almost bitter sounding laugh. "She hated the States, and I couldn't leave my kids at the center. I knew this was where I belonged, regardless of how homesick I got. So, when it came time to renew my work visa, I decided to apply for my green card instead. And that was the end of that."

An awkward silence hung between us as I really wasn't sure what to say to that. He was obviously was just as uncomfortable as well, as he cleared his throat and changed the subject.

"So, what about you? What brought you out here from…Forks, was it?" he asked, tipping his bottle to his lips to take a sip of the beer that "wasn't half bad", according to him.

I nodded, picking at the label of my own bottle. "Yeah, Forks. It's this small town with more stop _signs_ than traffic lights. My dad is the police chief there. Originally, I was only going to come out to Seattle for college, but then my grandma passed and left me this place. It's not bad, just not home, but it's also where the jobs are."

"And what do you do?"

"I have my Bachelor's in video game design, and I'm working with a small company for now to stretch my legs and see where it goes from there."

"Ah, I was wondering about all the different gadgets over there," Edward replied, pointing over toward my entertainment stand, which held everything from an Atari 2600 to an Xbox One S. "I can't honestly say that I could accurately name a single device on there, but I notice the absence of a Blu-ray or DVD player."

I shrugged casually. "No need for one with a PS4 and an Xbox. So, wait, you work with kids, and you don't know what any of that is?"

"Well, that's not exactly in my job description. And as for me, I never understood the purpose of dropping that much money at a time for what could be a few hours of entertainment. Not to impugn what you do at all," Edward added, and he appeared sincerely concerned that he might have offended me.

However, I could only find humor in it. "So, are you seriously telling me that you've never played a video game?"

"Unless Solitaire and Hearts on my computer qualify, then no."

"No, those definitely do _not_ qualify," I replied, shaking my head adamantly in a fit of laughter, which he joined in as he finished off his beer. "Would you like another?"

Edward set the bottle down and shook his head. "No, thank you. I actually should be going. It's been a long day, and I'm sure you have other things you'd rather be doing."

"Not really. I'm kinda boring, to be honest. My big date for this Friday night was actually a couple hours' worth of COD," I replied, amused by his look of confusion.

"Fish?"

I fought hard not to burst out laughing, and only just managed to hold it together before I could speak again. "Call of Duty. The game."

"Ah, there's the language barrier between us, more than any British or American-isms could _ever_ accomplish," he answered in amusement as well, and slowly stood. "Well, I hope you have fun with your '_COD_' and thank you again for inviting me to dinner. It was wonderful."

"Anytime. And hey, how about I make you a deal?" I said as I walked him to the door, and he turned his head to look at me in question. "What do you say to coming over here for dinner on Friday nights, rather than that lousy take-out you live on, and I can show you exactly what you have been deprived of all these years. I'll even let you start out with Mario Bros."

"Now _that_, I've heard of!" Edward stated proudly, until I gave him a pointed look with a raised eyebrow. "All right, it was more because of the movie than the game itself."

"Sacrilege," I playfully admonished, shaking my head. "So, do we have a deal?"

He glanced down at my outstretched hand and pursed his lips. "If I can bring the tea and marmite."

"You and your tea, and what the hell is marmite?" I asked, and from his soft chuckle, I wasn't sure I wanted to know. "All right. Deal."

Edward smiled as he shook my hand to seal our agreement, and then met my eyes again. "Take care, Bella."


	3. Wheeling and Dealing

**Chapter 3 – Wheeling and Dealing**

The next morning, while gathering my things for the presentation I had in a little over an hour, there was an urgent knock on my door. I hadn't been expecting anyone, and when I looked out the peephole, I was surprised to find a frazzled-looking Edward on the other side.

I opened the door, and he turned abruptly to face me, immediately dragging his hand through his hair in what appeared to be embarrassment. "Edward? Are you all right?"

"No. I mean, technically, yes, I'm fine. But no, not really."

He truly did sound frantic, so I motioned for him to come in, which he reluctantly did. "Seriously, what's wrong?"

"I'm in a bind. And I hate to be a bother, but I could really use your help, if it's not too much trouble," he rambled breathlessly as he paced back and forth.

"Okay, Edward, just calm down and tell me what's going on, and if I can help, I will," I said, taking hold of his arm to stop his movements, but immediately removed it when his eyes suddenly shot down to where we'd made contact.

However, it did seem to have the desired effect. He paused and drew in a deep breath, letting it out slowly before continuing. "Okay, I know you have some place to be this morning, and if you can't, I understand, but would you mind giving me a lift to the tube?"

"The tube?" I asked in confusion.

Edward then pinched the bridge of his nose. "I mean, the Metro. The station. I would bike there as I usually do, but I'd never make the train I need in order to get downtown before the bank closes at one. My account is frozen, so I can't call an Uber, either. And I need to have access to my funds before Monday, and right now, that rent check I wrote you yesterday will bounce."

With every word he spoke, his breathing increased, so I shook my head to stop him. "Hey, it's cool. I still have an hour, so depending on where your bank is, I can just take you there." He rattled off the name of his bank, and I grabbed my bag containing everything I needed for my meeting as well as my keys. "Come on, that's seriously like a few blocks away from where I'm going."

Edward released his breath in a heavy sigh. "You are literally a life saver right now."

After locking up, I led him out to my car. "So, what happened with your bank?"

Edward settled into the passenger seat and looked down to his lap. "I really am sorry about the rent. I completely wasn't thinking."

"I'm not worried about that. I _am_ worried about you, though," I replied as I started the car and began backing out. "I think I can count the actual number of breaths you've taken since I opened my front door."

He sighed heavily and leaned back against the headrest. "I neglected to remove my ex-girlfriend's access to the account. And there were several large, suspicious transactions made in Manchester overnight, so the bank suspected fraud and locked my account. Now, I have to go there, close it out completely, and open a new one to prevent her from accessing my funds. I honestly never thought she would stoop this low, but I will pay you in cash this evening, once I get this all sorted."

"Edward, seriously, it's not a big deal. That should be the least of your worries right now. Just…wow," I replied, shaking my head in astonishment. I could never imagine doing that to someone I'd claimed to care about, especially enough to spend nearly a decade in a relationship with them.

"Yeah, I know. So bloody naïve, huh?" Edward berated himself again, and despite barely knowing him, it hurt to hear him chastise himself in such a way.

"No, just trusting, which isn't _always _a bad thing," I replied, only earning a sad twitch of his lips in response, so I decided to change the subject instead. "So, why is it that you don't have a car?"

Edward shrugged in response and finally glanced toward me. "Really no point to having a car without a license or even the slightest idea of how to drive in the first place. Besides, American drivers scare the bollocks out of me, present company excluded."

I pinched my lips together, trying so hard not to laugh at him, but the more he talked, it seemed the heavier his accent became and the more British he sounded. He clearly noticed my amusement, since I caught his somewhat annoyed expression in my periphery, so I returned to the topic at hand. "So, you've _never_ driven? Like, not even back at home?"

"Is that really so strange? Not even all Americans drive." Edward laughed in response, shaking his head.

"True, but a good majority either do, or at least know _how_."

Edward simply shook his head. "I just never saw the point. Back home, it was just as easy to walk or bike anywhere I needed to go on a day to day basis, and there was the tube or bus for anything more of a distance away. And here, it really isn't much different. Public transportation serves my needs just fine."

"Most of the time," I interjected, giving him a teasing side-eye.

"Touché," Edward answered with another laugh.

"But seriously. You lived in Seattle for three years and you never _once_ thought about getting a license? Don't you ever have to commute to your clients or anything?"

Edward's expression changed again, and I briefly glanced over to see a sad look overcome his eyes. "Not very often. Mostly, I work with kids who are in the foster system, and unfortunately, with the level of care they require, it's quite difficult to find a home for them, so they reside in the group home where I am employed. On the rare occasion that one of my kids _does_ find a family to take them in and they still require my services, there's always Uber or carpooling with one of the other therapists who provide services to the client as well, when needed. That's actually _why_ I need access to my account before Monday, aside from what I owe you."

There was no doubt in my mind of the level of compassion he felt for the children he worked with, yet a flutter still erupted in my chest as he spoke about them. He had stated before that they were the deciding factor in opting to apply for permanent residency in the US, but the depth of emotion present in his voice right then showed how positively genuine he was. He was definitely a good man, and the woman causing him all of his current troubles had ultimately lost something great with him.

Pulling to a stop in front of his bank, I looked toward him as he once again expressed his thanks for the ride and stepped out of the car. "Anytime. And if you would like a ride back, I shouldn't be any later than two o'clock. Maybe we could meet up for a late lunch?"

Edward turned to lean down and glance back into the car at me, and I was rewarded with a smile. "Sure, that sounds great, actually. If you aren't sick of my company already, that is."

I laughed and shook my head. "No, not at all. You have my number on you, right?"

Edward grinned and held up his cell, rocking it back and forth a few times, and nodded. "Got it."

.

.

.

"How can you eat that?" Edward asked that afternoon as he sat across the table from me at lunch.

Once I finished chewing, I shook my head and pointed at him. "Don't even. I googled that marmite junk last night, and trust me, you have _no_ room to judge."

Edward dramatically brought his hand to his chest as if in physical pain, and I couldn't help but laugh. "Oh, how you wound me. Marmite is pure heaven."

"Okay, so _yeast_ extract, that even in its base form smells absolutely _rancid_, is 'heaven', and _I'm_ disgusting for _this_?" I shot back with a laugh, shaking my head in disbelief. "Oh, the irony."

Edward furrowed his brow as he watched me pop another French fry in my mouth, coated in a layer of the Frosty I had just dipped it into. "How can chocolate possibly taste good on a fried potato?"

"It's the perfect combination of sweet and salty," I explained, dipping another one into my shake and then holding it out to him. "Don't knock it 'til you try it."

"All right," Edward replied in a challenging tone, leaning forward on the table to emphasize it. "I will give this a go if _you_ agree to try marmite."

I instantly wrinkled my nose and shook my head, pulling the fry back again and eating it myself. "Oh, hell no. That stuff is not coming within a city block of my mouth."

"You do realize that I literally have it right next door at all times, right? And don't knock it 'til you try it," Edward mimicked me, right down to taming his own accent down. "Besides, you already agreed to tea and marmite on Friday."

I pointed my finger at him and waved it back and forth until I stopped chewing. "I said you could _bring_ it, not that I would _consume_ it."

Edward smiled at me triumphantly as he sat back in his seat and ate a plain fry. "Very well then."

I narrowed my eyes at him and scowled, but I couldn't deny that for the first time in a while, I was _really_ having fun. I'd never been someone who made friends easily, but Edward had made it feel effortless, and I was sincerely enjoying just hanging out with him. On the same token, he seemed far detached from the sad, lonely man I'd invited to dinner the night before, and his smile was beginning to appear more and more often as our time together progressed. I found myself really glad that he had been the one to answer my ad and actually follow through. "Fine, I will try it, even if it sounds _horrible_."

Edward drew in a deep breath as I held my Frosty toward him, urging him to dip a fry into it. "I don't really like sweets all that much, so it's about on the same level."

I pursed my mouth, gesturing with my eyes toward the cup and back to him. Reluctantly, he grabbed one of his own fries and barely touched the tip into the shake, and then tried to pull away. I shook my head and took hold of his wrist, guiding him until the fry was just under halfway in, and then letting go. "You've gotta _really_ get it in there for it to count."

"I'm going to remember this on Friday," Edward replied in a warning tone, but the crinkling around his eyes assured me of his teasing. He hesitated as he brought it to his lips and gazed at it for a moment like it was a biohazard item or something, and then reluctantly opened his mouth and placed it inside. His face was unreadable for a moment as he slowly began to chew, then once he swallowed, he shrugged. "All right, that wasn't _horrible_. I'll give you that."

I smiled smugly at him with a wink. "See, told ya."

"Friday is going to be fun," Edward replied with a grin of his own, looking equally as self-satisfied.

I swallowed hard as a brief shiver ran through me. What on earth had I just gotten myself into?


	4. Welcome To My World

**A/N: Just a quick shoutout to myonlyheroin for her help with these chapters, as the inspiration for him is partially her British husband. :)**

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**Chapter 4 – Welcome To My World**

Come Friday, I was _seriously _regretting the deal I'd made with Edward.

Every night that week, I'd just been returning from my evening jog when he'd arrive home from work. To be honest, I couldn't deny that part of my reasoning for going even later in the day than usual was to see him and say hi. We'd talk for a bit until the sun would start fully setting, and then go back to our respective apartments, but not before he'd mention Friday. Then Thursday night, he was a little late, and I had started to get worried until he came up the front walk with a plastic grocery bag, with one item inside. It's label clearly was showing through—Marmite.

The night had arrived, and we stood at my kitchen counter while the bread was in the toaster, and the second he opened that jar, my head spun away. "Holy shit, that's awful!"

"Just trust me," Edward said as he set the toast on a plate and immediately began spreading butter over the surface, followed by the thin layer of marmite.

"Famous last words," I mumbled under my breath, causing him to chuckle as he divided it in half. "I can't believe I'm doing this."

"Variety is the spice of life, Bella," he replied, handing me one half while he picked up the other, tapping the corners together like a champagne toast.

I could just imagine my face at that moment, pretty much mirroring his at Wendy's the previous Saturday—but at least _that_ didn't _smell_ this bad. The only thing I could think of that even came close to describing it was fish and moldy bread—or really strong, stale beer. It definitely was pungent. I attempted to hold my breath as I took my first bite, and I kept it in my mouth for a moment, trying to form an honest opinion about it. I didn't want to insult Edward, but it really was one of the worst things I had _ever_ had in my mouth in my entire life, and I could still remember my grandmother forcing me to eat liver and onions when I was really little. Yet, it also wasn't as bad as I'd been psyching it up to be all week.

And then Edward apparently couldn't hold back his laughter anymore.

I reluctantly swallowed and wiped my mouth with a napkin, and then proceeded to wad it up and bounce it off his head. "It might not be as bad as I thought it would be, but how can you _voluntarily_ eat that crap?"

Edward simply grinned and took another bite, rolling his eyes back in what looked like ecstasy.

I shook my head and just laughed at his antics. "You're _really_ weird."

His gaze returned to me and his smile softened. "You're a brave woman. I'll make it up to you with a proper cup of tea."

"I'm not so sure I trust your judgement of things after that," I shot back with a laugh.

"You can _sincerely_ trust me on this one, Bella. If you like American tea…" He paused, gazing at me inquiringly, and I nodded in affirmation. "Then you're going to _love_ this."

Just as he finished speaking, the tea kettle began to whistle, and he turned toward the stove while I took the box he'd brought over into my hand. "PG tips. So, what's so different? Looks like just another box of tea bags."

"_Everything_. Go ahead, open the box," Edward replied, nodding toward the item in question.

I lifted the lid of the box and the first thing I did was breathe in deep through my nose, and I actually closed my eyes at the heavenly scent of it. Although, to be honest, I really loved the smell of tea in general—it reminded me of my grandmother. Yet, when his fingers came into my view to extract two of the bags to set into the waiting mugs, my eyes followed the objects. "Triangles? Squares or circles too boring for you?"

"Maybe that's the secret," Edward teased me with a wink as he poured the water into the mugs. I sat there and watched as the color gradually darkened, and after a couple of minutes, he removed the bags. When I reached for the cup, he gave me an odd look. "You don't take milk in your tea?"

"Um, no, I've never tried it that way, but I would prefer trying this straight first to see what the big deal is about."

Edward raised his hands in surrender and smiled as I blew across the top of my mug, until it was just cool enough to sip without burning my tongue. He anxiously watched as I took my first mouthful, and I purposely kept my face expressionless to keep him guessing for a moment. Obviously, patience was not a virtue he was overly equipped with, since he bent his head down to meet my eyes. "So? What's the verdict?"

I taunted him for a few seconds longer before setting my mug down and looking at him again. "You were right. Our tea is complete shit."

Edward's smile was absolutely dazzling as he prepared his own tea—with milk. "See, told you."

I rolled my eyes as he once again mimicked my own words, and then drummed my hands on the counter. "All right, sailor. Time to stretch your sea legs in the video game arena, with no card games allowed."

Edward gave a playful groan but then followed me into the living room.

_Oh, he was going to be so much fun._

.

.

.

From the moment we settled onto the couch and I handed Edward the SNES controller, the evening became highly entertaining—for me, at least.

The first thing he did was glance down at the comparatively small controller in his large hands, and then looked over at me as if to say, "you've got to be kidding, right?" I gave him the run-through of what the few buttons did, and the game started. Then he wasn't even three full seconds into the initial level before he died for the first time.

"What in the bleeding hell was that?" he exclaimed, gesturing toward the television with his hand as Mario dropped from the screen.

"It's a Goomba. You're supposed to jump and squash it, or just go over it. Otherwise, they will kill you until you grab the first mushroom," I explained as he started up again, but then pressed the wrong button and ran right into it once more.

"I'm hopeless, Bella. Bring on the card games," Edward said with a groan, thrusting his head back against the couch.

"You're not giving up that easily, bucko," I replied, shaking my head as I took the controller from his hand. "Here, let me start you off with this."

His face took on a confused expression, and he turned to look at me. "Bucko?"

"You say weird things all the time, so shush," I retorted, giving him a side glance as I restarted the level, talking him through everything I was doing, from bouncing on Goomba's heads to knocking Mario's head repeatedly into brick blocks. It was absolutely mind-boggling to him when a block appeared out of mid-air, giving me an extra life mushroom.

"How the hell did you even know about that? That's pretty dodgy of them, there was nothing there!" His frustration echoed through his voice, but he kept staring at the screen as he spoke again. "And I speak just fine. It's you Americans that butchered the language."

I laughed as I sped through the level, earning grumbles from him as I ran straight through the Goombas after grabbing the invincibility star, until I finally reached the end and slid down the flagpole. "And _that_ is how it's done."

Edward watched the controller fall to the couch in my dramatic mic drop motion, rolling his eyes. "All right, show off. I'll give this another go."

For the next half hour, I was in a state of almost constant giggles, hearing quite a bit of "bloody hells", "piss offs", and my personal favorite amongst them all, his "get stuffed!" I had to admit, though, he was actually taking to the game far quicker than I had expected. In fact, it wasn't until the third level that he died again and growled in frustration.

"I'm getting really fecking over these little knobheads. And _mushrooms_ giving you special powers? That's not exactly the kind of message that should be conveyed to kids. How can they put shite like this in a children's game? It's actually quite bothersome." His glower resumed as he began the level again, pushing the buttons a little harder than necessary. I did manage to refrain from laughing, but only due to the fact that my thoughts could only focus one thing he'd just said.

"Knobheads? Should I even ask…" I paused and grabbed my phone from the coffee table, pulling up Google and typing "knobhead" into the search box. My eyes widened at the meaning, and as I glanced at the screen again, my hand came up to cover my mouth to refrain from bursting out in laughter. In all the years I'd been playing Super Mario Bros., I had never taken the time to notice how much Goombas really _did_ look like the head of a penis. And now, I couldn't _un_see it. "Oh my God, you've seriously just destroyed my childhood, Edward."

"Sorry," he mumbled and continued playing the game, but wouldn't meet my eyes, even for the briefest of seconds. "And I'm not usually so vulgar in the presence of ladies, but these things really are disturbing."

Edward really was remarkably adorable, and my laughter settled as I just gazed at him for a moment. An almost patchy blush colored his cheeks, but the soft mutterings did not completely cease, though he was clearly trying to keep it a little more tame. So, I decided to try and ease his mind. "Oh, trust me, this is nothing. Wait until you hear me with a new Assassin's Creed game. I could wake the dead _and_ make truckers blush."

It seemed to have worked, as he briefly glanced at me and offered a small smile, but I had to wonder if he thought I was just trying to placate and make him feel better.

_Just wait, Edward. You'll see just how serious I am before long_, I thought to myself as I settled back to watch him play some more. After two more hours, Edward set the controller down and stated that he really should be heading back to his place to get to sleep.

"Aside from the fact that my hands are cramped to hell," he groaned, shaking them out for emphasis. "I really did have fun tonight, Bella. Thank you."

"Me, too. And trust me, the controllers do get better. Wait until you graduate to the Xbox," I replied as I walked him to the door. "And thank _you_ for tea. It really was amazing, and I think you've ruined me forever with that."

"You're welcome. I'd be glad to pick you up a box next shop, which actually might have to be soon, after tonight." He grinned as I apologized, having gone through six cups in the last few hours—it really was _that_ good. "I could also pick you up some marmite as well."

"No freakin' thank you. The tea was great, _that _was not," I replied with a shudder, making a show of gagging.

Edward laughed heartily and shook his head. "I'm just taking the piss." My eyes widened as I looked down to his feet, which only increased his amusement. "I am going to miss your facial expressions once you grow accustomed to the way I talk. I meant that I'm just teasing you."

"Very funny," I replied sarcastically, but was still fighting a smile.

"I'll pick you up two boxes then. Peace offering," he said, opening the door and stepping outside.

"One is more than generous. Thank you." I stood there in silence for a moment, looking at him. I couldn't understand why it was so awkward to say goodnight, other than the fact that the evening had seemed to pass way too quickly, and as usual, I'd had a really good time with him. Yet, he did look pretty tired, and I also had a drive to Forks in the morning. "So, next week, we'll step up to the Sega Genesis and Sonic, after you try some Mario 3. That's still my favorite."

"Sounds great." He gave me a quick nod and a small wave before turning to head to his door, flashing me one more smile before disappearing into his apartment.


	5. Just Friends

**Chapter 5 ~ Just Friends**

I definitely was not myself the next day when I arrived for my normal weekly visit with my dad and Sue, which I chalked up to complete exhaustion. After Edward left the night before, I decided to play a few levels of Mario myself, as it had been a couple of years since I'd indulged, and I was feeling nostalgic.

Next thing I knew, it was three a.m., and I had to be out the door by eight if I was going to make it to Forks before lunchtime and get a decent visit in before having to make the long drive back again. It was obvious that my dad noticed my exhausted state immediately upon my arrival, and he insisted that I spend the night there and took my keys to prevent me from driving that tired again.

However, once we sat down to eat the leftovers I brought—since neither he or Sue could quite make a roast as well as I could, for some reason—I couldn't help but notice them exchanging subtle glances and giving me strange looks.

"Everything okay there, Bells?" my dad finally asked about halfway through the meal, where I sat pushing my food around with my fork.

I glanced up at him, his eyes still on me as he took another bite of food, and I nodded. "Yeah, I didn't get much sleep last night, that's all. Really, I'm fine, just tired."

"That new tenant being a problem?" he inquired further in an even more level tone.

I quickly shook my head in an attempt to divert further concern from my father. "No, not at all. Most of the time, I barely remember that I even _have_ a neighbor. He's great and actually really nice."

I watched as they exchanged a glance and grew a little frustrated when they both shook their heads and returned the gazes to their meals.

"What?" I asked, setting my fork on my plate and folded my arms, while my eyes moved between them.

"Nothing," my dad replied a little too fast and innocently, so I focused back on Sue.

To her credit, she at least shifted a little uncomfortably as she wiped her mouth with a napkin and took a moment to meet my eyes before setting it to the side her plate. "You just seem a little preoccupied today, sweetheart. Usually, you're a bit more talkative while you're here, and your responses have been a little short, to be honest. Even about work. I guess we're wondering if it has to do with a certain British occupant next door to you."

I sighed heavily and rolled my eyes, shaking my head at both of them. "Really, you guys? Seriously, he's my tenant. And you guys think I'm hooking up with him or something?"

"Not thinking as much as worrying, Bella," my dad added, glancing in my direction again.

"I met him a month ago and only spoke to him for the first time outside of apartment reasons last week, and you're already worried? Thanks for the vote of confidence there, Dad," I answered abruptly, standing up from the table walking toward the sink. I scraped my plate into the trash and rinsed it off before setting it in the basin.

"Charlie," Sue groaned loudly, and her head fell back in frustration. "That's not what we meant, Bella. It's only that we know that things get awkward in situations like this if they aren't kept entirely professional."

I turned to face them, leaning back against the counter and looked between them. "Well, you don't have anything to worry about. I've made him dinner a couple of times because the man lives on takeout, and we enjoy hanging out, but that's the extent of it. Even if I _wasn't_ completely bogged down at the moment with this project for work and not really looking for anything romantic right now, Edward's only just come out of an eight-year relationship that didn't end the best. Neither of us are interested in anything more than a friend at dinner on occasion, and a buddy to play video games with."

"Okay," Dad replied, holding his hands up in surrender. "I know you've got a good head on your shoulders, baby. But, sometimes, I know women find certain traits in a man a little irresistible, like say…accents?"

"Well, you would have been completely out of luck there, wouldn't you, darling?" Sue remarked, patting him on the cheek teasingly before placing a gentle kiss on it as she stood to clear her dishes as well. "Guess it's a good thing I like mustaches."

I couldn't restrain my laugh at my dad's slack-jawed expression as she walked away from him and gave me a wink. I loved watching their dynamic together; that they never took anything too seriously with each other, and they were still as happy and carefree as they'd been at the beginning. It hadn't even _begun_ to fade, and that was all I had ever wanted for my father. Once I had collected myself, aided by a mock glare from him, I shook my head. "Trust me, Dad. The Brit in him is probably the most _annoying_ part about him."

He looked at me as if he didn't believe a word I said, but nodded, nonetheless. "Okay, if you say so, Bella."

"I do," I said affirmatively, and then decided to change the subject. "Hey, isn't the game on at two? Let's go get settled."

Dad narrowed his eyes at me suspiciously. "You hate baseball."

"But I love my dad, so come on," I replied with a nod of my head toward the living room.

.

.

.

Later that night, as I slid into my childhood bed, my phone began vibrating on the nightstand. I rolled onto my side and glanced at the screen to see a text from Edward.

_Everything okay?_

I found the text to be a little odd but replied anyway.

_Yeah, everything's fine. Why?_

I watched the three dots appear, indicating an impending response from him, and right as it seemed as if he'd had enough time to write a novel, a relatively short reply appeared.

_I'd left something for you on your stoop this morning and it was still there a few minutes ago, and it's dark and the lights are off. Just wanted to make sure you're okay. _

Unable to restrain the smile at the sweet sentiment, I began typing to him again.

_I'm fine, thank you. Just too tired for the drive back tonight, so I'm crashing at my dad's. I also left the disgusting biohazard material you forgot last night at your door this morning too. You got it, right?_

_One day, you'll admit your undying love for marmite ;) and yes, I got it, thank you. Sleep well, Bella._

I snorted and shook my head, typing out, _Not a chance, pal. And you too. Good night._

Upon hitting send, I waited a few seconds to see if there would be any more replies from him for the evening, but my phone remained silent. So, I set it on the nightstand again and clicked off the lamp, snuggling down into my bed. Truth be told, I kind of missed him, which felt utterly strange to me, as I had no reason to feel that way. I'd just seen him the night before, and I would likely at least catch him in passing at some point when I returned the following day.

Perhaps, I really had been lacking much-needed companionship in the last few years, when I thought I'd been fine being a loner.

That feeling only increased when I arrived home the next day, finding a small gift bag on my doorstep, with a note dangling from the handle.

_Enjoy a nice cuppa. I promise, no biohazard._

_Edward_

Peeking inside the bag, I spotted not only "a couple", but four boxes of PG tips inside. I felt almost giddy, bouncing lightly in place, before stepping toward his door and knocking lightly. After a few moments, I heard the knob start to turn, but when the door swung open, I was startled by the sight that met my eyes.

Edward appeared to be only half awake, his hair even more disheveled than usual, dressed in a plain white t-shirt and black sleep pants. I reached into my pocket to grab my phone and looked at the time—12:36 p.m…and he was still asleep? "Bella? Everything all right?"

"Hey, sorry to…wake you so early?" I replied sarcastically, causing him to laugh in response.

"Been on and off the phone with my mum since three-thirty this morning. My sister-in-law went into labor and had the baby about an hour ago."

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry. I mean, congrats on becoming an uncle and all, but you've really only been asleep for an hour?" I felt guilty as all hell. "I just wanted to thank you for the tea and was gonna invite you over for some, but you should sleep. I'm sorry for waking you."

"You're more than welcome, and it's all right, Bella. Thank you for the congratulations. It's actually niece number two for me, but Mum was pretty excited," he replied with a tired smile. "I did manage to catch a little sleep last night, in between calls, and actually, I could really use a good cuppa right now. Give me five?"

"Sure. Just come on in whenever you're ready, I'll start the kettle."

And just like that, once a week was never enough again.


	6. Growing Bonds

**A/N: As with Cleanup in Produce, I didn't have a chance to post yesterday, with as hectic as this week has been, and I apologize. Hope you enjoy.**

* * *

**Chapter 6**

The next few weeks followed a familiar pattern. Dinner on Friday nights with a few hours of video games afterward, and of course, tea. Saturdays, I spent in Forks with my dad, and then Sundays had become quite a treat.

Edward had stated that since I was generous enough to make him dinner on Fridays, the least he could do was return the favor with Sunday breakfast. I was legitimately surprised when he showed up at my door one Sunday morning with two plates covered in plastic wrap, not to mention a little nervous, since even he had said he wasn't the greatest cook. The contents were still warm, so the film was clouded with steam, and it wasn't until he removed it in my kitchen that I got a view of what was underneath.

Some of it appeared completely normal to me—eggs, sausage and toast. The fried tomato looked a little out of place, but nothing shocking. However…

"Beans? For breakfast?" I asked with a quizzical look. "I usually only eat those with hot dogs."

Edward smiled at me in a way that made me a little nervous—similar to what I'd started calling "the marmite smirk", which he found hilarious. "Not the same thing, Bella. These are _so_ good. This is one of the few things I can make that would actually be considered consumable."

"Yeah, I remember the _last_ thing you said was good." I was _never_ letting him live down that marmite…_ever_.

"Actually, the _very_ last thing I said that about was our tea, and I wasn't wrong, now was I?" he asked with a raised eyebrow and gave me a pointed look as he slid one of the plates toward me.

I narrowed my eyes at him as I took hold of the fork he'd handed over to me and settled onto the stool. "All right, fine, smartass. No, you weren't, but I also haven't forgiven you for _that,_ either."

Edward laughed and came around the island to sit on the seat next to me. "How's that?"

"Oh my god, this is good," I nearly moaned as I took my first bite, swallowing before I turned my head toward him to meet his expectant gaze and answering him. "That stuff is addictive, especially now with it getting chilly out, and I saw how much it costs. You didn't have to do that for me."

"Well, I couldn't very well leave you to return to that pathetic excuse of a beverage that Americans call tea, now could I?" he answered with a cocky smirk, which melted into the genuine smile that suited him far more. "And it really was no problem, as I was already picking some up for myself. If you run out, you know you're always welcome to knock on my door."

Things really were so easy with Edward, regardless of what we were doing. As more time passed, we found that we had a lot in common, such as our love for reading and our favorite author, Stephen King—although we did have an intense debate about our favorite novels. Mine was The Stand, while he wavered between The Dark Half and The Dark Tower series.

However, the time I spent watching him discover his love for video games was among my favorites. There was almost a childlike fascination that came over him as we progressed through the generations of Nintendo, Playstation, and then saving the best for last—my personal favorite, the Xbox. He was skeptical at first, having preferred Playstation above all else. He'd _hated_ the controllers for the Nintendo 64, which he insisted the Xbox ones resembled, save for the "phallic looking thing in the middle that you're required to hold onto for some games". Yet, once he had that controller in his hands, I could swear I heard a little moan as it molded perfectly into his palms.

After that, he didn't want to go back to the Playstation, which was fine by me.

As the winter months started rolling in, the more I couldn't stand the thought of him walking or riding everywhere. Whenever I could manage, I would offer him a ride, but more often than not, he would politely decline, not wanting to "put me out". However, when we got our first blizzard of the year, waking up to snow drifts almost a quarter of the way up our doors, I absolutely insisted on driving him all the way to work.

We were having an unusually horrible snow season, so the rides became more frequent, and every car accident we would pass only convinced him further on why he was terrified of driving. I didn't mind, though. I enjoyed having more time to talk to him, outside of our weekend routine, and I absolutely loved listening to him talk about "his kids". He would get so excited about every one of their successes and become very animated. Adversely, he would admonish himself for failing them if they were struggling or had a setback of any kind, and I found myself wanting to be there even more for him in those moments. I loved how much he cared, even if I had to talk him down from being so hard on himself and remind him of how wonderful he actually was.

One Friday, just after Christmas, I swung by Edward's office, only to be told that he had already left for the day, which both surprised and worried me. He hadn't called to inform me that he had gotten out early, and the weather was horrible. I followed his normal route home from the train, and I didn't spot him anywhere. With visibility getting worse by the second, and having already swerved on some black ice, I decided to head home and check there, thinking that maybe he had gotten a ride from one of his coworkers.

After several minutes of alternating between knocking on his door and trying his cell, with no response to either, I went inside my apartment to warm up and kept watch from my window. Two hours later, I felt my heart finally leave my throat and return to my chest as I spotted his unmistakable gait coming down the sidewalk, and I hurried outside. I made a beeline for him, and before he even fully made it up the front walk, I engulfed him in a hug. "God, you scared the bleeding hell out of me!"

I felt a chuckle escape him as he wrapped his arms around my waist, and I could feel the intense chill of his body radiating to mine.

"You find this funny?" I asked, trying to pull away to look at him, but he only held me tighter.

"No. You've just been spending far too much time with me, that's all," he replied in a barely audible voice, confusing me at first, and then it dawned on me what he meant.

The more time I spent with Edward, the more "bleeding" and "bloody" statements had been slipping into my dialogue with him, which was something I used to tease him relentlessly about in the beginning. I even asked him once why everything was so morbid with the British, which had gotten a good laugh out of him. Now, it barely fazed me at all, so I didn't notice when I started using it myself. At that moment, though, I couldn't be bothered to care at all. I'd been so afraid that something had happened to him, and I would get one of those middle of the night knocks on my door by the police, since I was now his emergency contact.

"You really scared me, Edward. Where have you been?" I inquired further, hugging around his shoulders.

"At the hospital."

His response caused my body to freeze and then quickly pull back to look at him, inspecting him for any visible signs of injury with tears forming in my eyes.

"Not for me, Bella. I'm all right, but can we go inside?"

"Of course. You're freezing. I'll put the kettle on," I spoke in a rush, ushering him toward my apartment and immediately went to the kitchen to start heating the water as he shed his jacket and settled on the couch. His face was a bright shade of pink while his lips had a tint of blue, and his body was shaking relentlessly. "Why didn't you call me, Edward? I swear, if hypothermia doesn't kill you, I might."

That time, he didn't even smile, and I made my way over behind the couch and wrapped the blanket on the back around him. His hand came up to grasp mine, and I jumped as it felt like a block of ice surrounding my fingers, but I couldn't bring myself to think about anything other than his shivering and the drawn expression on his face. "Thank you, Bella. I'm sorry for giving you such a fright. I just needed some time alone with my thoughts."

I nodded, trying to keep my eyes from tearing at the sad look in his, and it hit me like a ton of bricks how much I had actually come to care for him. In the matter of less than six months, he had become so much more than simply my tenant. He was my neighbor and my friend, and without even realizing it was happening, evolved into someone I cared for immensely, and now, the sight of him was breaking my heart. "Well, if you want to talk about it, you've got my ear, but if you don't, that's okay, too. I'm just relieved that you're okay. I can make us up a quick dinner and you can vent your frustrations in some COD or Wolfenstein. Sometimes it really does help after a bad day."

"Would you mind very much if I took a raincheck for tonight? I'm not very hungry, and after some tea, I'm probably just going to head home and knock off. It's been a really long day, and I'm knackered."

"Of course not. I definitely understand," I replied and jumped slightly when the tea kettle started whistling. Rushing into the kitchen, I set about making the tea, but before I could even pour the water into the mug, I looked to find Edward slumped to the side on my couch with his eyes closed—he'd already fallen asleep.

I debated for a moment about waking him up, but in the end, I decided to grab a pillow from the closet and another blanket. As I shifted him to lay down more comfortably, he didn't even twitch a single muscle, showcasing his level of exhaustion, even when I removed his shoes and covered him over. After making myself a cup of tea, I settled onto the armchair beside the couch, watching him as his shivering eventually dissipated and soft, gentle snores took its place. Yet, even in his sleep, the worry lines never completely disappeared from his forehead and eyes, and I found myself running dozens of scenarios through my head as to what happened to put them there, until I too nodded off.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

The next morning, I woke with a crick in my neck from sleeping in the chair, but as I recalled the reason for my being there, my eyes immediately shifted to the couch, where Edward was still sound asleep. I had just started brewing a pot of coffee when I heard a sharp intake of breath, and he sprang off the couch as if he'd been catapulted.

"Oi, Bella, I am so sorry. I had no intention of zonking out and inconveniencing you all night like this. Damn it, what time is it?" Edward rambled adorably, checking his watch, and then rubbing his face. "Why didn't you wake me, and I would have buggered on home? You're probably running late now, eh?"

"First of all, you didn't inconvenience me at all. You were obviously exhausted and had a rough day, it's totally fine, Edward," I said as I made my way back to the living room to stand in front of him and placed my hands on his shoulders. "And no, I'm not late for anything. My dad insisted that I stay home today because of the storm, so no trip to Forks for me this week. But I probably would have called and let him know I wasn't coming anyway."

Edward shook his head and met my eyes. "Time with your dad is important. I wouldn't have you cancel over me."

"So is being there for a friend. And when I see my friend in the state you were in last night, and you still don't appear to be in any great shakes today," I paused, running my hands in a soothing motion on his arms until we both froze at the intimate gesture, and I let them fall to my sides. His gaze lowered, and I arched my neck to catch it with mine again. "My dad would have understood. Friendship does take precedence sometimes."

If it was actually possible to get lost in someone's eyes, I was certain I would have done so right then. The depth of emotions raging within the blends of greens and golds had me speechless, and then he spoke. "Thank you, Bella. I sincerely appreciate that."

After a simple breakfast, consisting of a bowl of Cheerios for each of us, we settled onto the couch again, and he finally divulged what had occurred the day before. He'd had a session with one of his more challenging clients, a seven-year-old boy with severe autism named Adam, which had to be ended early when he went into a full-blown meltdown; the worst one he'd had since Edward had started working with him.

"What, like a tantrum type of thing?" I asked, not completely understanding what he meant.

Edward immediately shook his head and shifted to look at me more fully. "No, tantrums are far different. Those can usually be subdued with environmental changes or perhaps placating them with a treat or a toy, and likely just because a child didn't get their way, or are overtired, or something upset them. These meltdowns are physiological responses to things like overstimulation, and it can be anything from a complete emotional shutdown of the child to hysterical crying and screaming. And with these children, there is no recourse for subduing it until it's either run its course, or they thoroughly exhaust themselves. Sometimes, a parent or someone close to them can help break through, but even that is a hit-or-miss. And Adam doesn't have that. No family, and he doesn't bond emotionally with anyone."

I watched Edward as he spoke so clinically, until he said the child's name and emotion began filtering into his voice again. I reached over to rest my hand over his, and he gently circled his fingers around mine. "You said you were at the hospital last night. Is he okay?"

Edward slowly nodded his head, but his eyes remained lowered. "Yeah, he's all right. He was actually discharged before I left. Only needed a few stitches. He'd begun screaming and thrashing about, and he thrust himself into one of the bookcases pretty hard and cut the side of his face on the corner. I had to go and fill out an incident report, but I just needed some time alone, so I didn't call you. I'm trained for this, I've handled a multitude of varying degrees of these meltdowns and even seizures with some children, but never has one been injured on my watch."

"It wasn't your fault, Edward. Was there anything you could have possibly done to prevent it, in hindsight?" I asked, waiting for any kind of response from him, and after several moments of silence, he shook his head and sighed. "Well, there you go. You're a good man, and you're very good at what you do. I know how much you care about these kids, but accidents happen, and there's not a single soul in the world who can prevent _everything_ bad, with their presence alone."

"I know that. It's just a bitter pill," he replied, still sounding far away and lost in his own thoughts.

"Just keep in mind that he's okay," I reassured him, giving his fingers a gentle squeeze. "Maybe we should take a lounge around day. It's freezing outside, nowhere we need to be. We could sit back and watch movies, eat junk food, whatever you want. What do you say?"

A small smile finally broke through on his lips, and he brought his eyes back to me. "I'd say that sounds great, but…"

"No buts. Even if I have to sit on you so you can't move. You need a day of mindless fun and to stop overthinking so much," I said, shaking my head and crossing my arms over my chest.

"You realize I could just lift you and move anyway, right? I doubt you even break seven stone," he replied with a chuckle.

"Ha, but I made you laugh!" I grinned at him, and his smile actually reached his eyes. "I'm not making light of anything, but you shouldn't torment yourself over something that you had no control over. So, let's hang out and try to relax some. Everything's gonna be okay."

"I was actually just going to say, 'but I at least need to go take a shower and change first'. I don't fancy 'lounging around' in the clothes I've been wearing for more than twenty-four hours." He chuckled as he rose to make his way to my door but turned toward me again after a few steps. "Thank you, Bella. I really appreciate you letting me vent."

"What are friends for?" I asked, and without thinking, stepped forward to wrap my arms around his neck in a hug.

He seemed startled at first, but then I felt his circle around my waist and pull me closer, resting his forehead on my shoulder. "You're a very good friend."

Just as quickly, he backed away, telling me he'd be back in twenty minutes and disappearing out my door. After a moment, a thought came to me, and I ran to the kitchen to grab my phone. I knew that "stone" was the unit of weight measurement where he was from, so I used a google calculator to convert seven stone to pounds, and subsequently laughed. "Ninety-eight pounds?! In what universe, Edward!"

.

.

.

I had no way of knowing at the time, but that evening/early morning with Edward, as well as my unprompted hug, seemed to carve new pathways in our friendship. The only time I really remembered that he was anything other than my neighbor and friend was the first Friday of every month, when he placed his rent check in my hand.

We also began doing more together. He actually got me hooked on racquetball, his preferred form of exercise, after I'd mentioned my restlessness that cabin fever was causing me. It was difficult to keep up with jogging with the frigid temperatures and knee-deep snow at times, and I couldn't exactly afford a gym membership and still save enough for all the plans I had for spring. Edward stated that he had one and could bring a guest, if I wanted to try it out.

Treadmills weren't my thing, nor were ellipticals. They just didn't seem to give me the same feel of physical exertion, which was one of my biggest complaints about dance/exercise video games when Edward had broached that subject.

Then, he put a racquet in my hand, and I hadn't been the same since. The fact that his competitiveness rivaled mine was an added bonus, and the loser would pay for the six pack of Guinness on the way home.

I also couldn't deny that seeing Edward work out—and in shorts, no less—affected me in ways that it shouldn't. We were friends but watching him move and the working of the muscles in his legs and arms, caused the woman in me to stir.

From the day I first saw him, I could admit that I found him attractive. It was never in question that he was very good-looking, and his sweet, compassionate nature only added to his already strong appeal as a person.

However, for some reason, I never really viewed him as a _man_. Perhaps it was due to the circumstances brought about by his last relationship or my own subconscious boundary to keep things on a platonic and somewhat professional level, but he was never more than just Edward, my buddy.

I tried to keep those new thoughts and feelings subdued, though. Even if I was looking at him a little differently, we couldn't go there. No matter what, I was his landlord and that would only serve to make things way too complicated. More importantly, however, Edward had never given me the smallest sign that he was even remotely attracted to me. Aside from an occasional glance at my ass or averting his eyes with a hard swallow when I needed to adjust my sports bra, he was never anything more than friendly.

Yet, hadn't I already crossed that line by inviting him to dinner and cooking for him on a weekly basis? Or hanging out over the weekend, playing video games? Or movie nights, where we would alternate introducing some of our favorites that the other hadn't seen?

As we happened to be doing one Sunday evening, relaxing after one of our very close "best of three" matches of racquetball — which I won, just _barely_. It was also my turn to select the movie for the night, which garnered a raised eyebrow from him when I handed him the disc to put in while I grabbed our beers from the fridge.

"_Fools Rush In_. Seriously? You really are a _Friends_ fan, aren't you?" he teased as he loaded the movie into my Xbox.

"Hey, you better watch it. I have all ten seasons of extended episodes on DVD, and I have no qualms about breaking them out at a moment's notice." I laughed as Edward adamantly shook his head, followed by drawing an imaginary halo above him, as I settled onto the couch and handed him his beer. "Besides, who says I watched it for Matthew Perry? For all you know, I could have a girl crush on Salma Hayek. She _is_ pretty hot, you know."

"That's a load of bollocks," Edward replied with a lighthearted roll of his eyes, tipping his beer back. "Could never get into the show myself, but my brother's wife was _obsessed_ with it when we were teenagers, and everything was about how awesome 'Chandler' was. 'He's just so gorgeous' and 'I'd shag him in a heartbeat', and then there was the 'in reality, you'd get more action if you were like Chandler'. And that seems to be a common consensus, as that's still the only character I can definitively recall, thanks to Facebook. Yet, wasn't he the guy getting next to _no_ action at all for quite a while there?"

I shrugged as I reached for the controller to load the movie. "Well, he was also the first one to have a solid marriage as well, so you can't argue with facts. I'd take a guy like Chandler _any day_ over a womanizer like Joey, or a whiny, obsessive know-it-all like Ross."

"Really? So, the 'how _you_ doin' never got you?" he asked as I choked on my beer at his _terrible_ Joey impression.

"Oh hell no. Now, let's shut up and watch the movie, okay?"

A little less than two hours later, I sat curled at the end of the couch, hiding my sniffles behind the bent knee I had pulled to my chest, covered by a blanket I pulled over myself halfway through. Edward, on the other hand, was making a fine attempt at being a gentleman, but I could see him fighting against the urge to smile or laugh. I grabbed a throw pillow from behind me and threw it at him, and he promptly lost the battle.

"Jerk," I muttered under my breath as I moved past him to bring our empty bottles to the kitchen.

Edward continued to chuckle for a moment, but it soon faded to little more than an amused smile. "Can I ask you a personal question, Bella?"

I shrugged nonchalantly with a nod as I began making us some tea to unwind for the night. I doubted that anything he could ask would really make me feel uneasy, especially since I was more than comfortable walking around my apartment in skimpy shorts and a cut off T-shirt with a hole right below my left breast. "Sure. Shoot."

He shifted in his seat a little, and that made me a little nervous. "I'm curious. You seem to have a penchant for these sweet, cheesy romantic comedies, and they even make you cry. I guess I'm just wondering why…Oh, forget it."

"What? You might as well finish asking," I replied, and he shook his head saying it was none of his business. "What do you want to know? If I'm really a romantic at heart?"

"Yeah, I suppose that's one way of stating it," he replied as he rose to make his way over to the breakfast bar and sit across from me.

"I guess I can be. I'd like to believe there's someone out there for everyone and that having a relationship doesn't necessarily have to mean adding more drama to your life. A part of me does. Why?"

"Just curious, that's all," he answered, not looking at me, so I was certain there was more. I kept silent for a moment, prompting him to meet my eyes from across the counter. "I've been wondering why you choose to spend your free time with me rather than going out on a date from time to time or something."

"I don't know. No interest for the most part," I replied honestly, dropping the teabags into the mugs. "Don't you know that it's completely emasculating when someone who was born without a penis not only _plays_ video games, but also enjoys them and is actually _good_ at them? And try telling these men that I have enough of a brain to design them as well. That's an instant 'check please!' and out the door."

"Their loss," he said in a sincere tone, although I did catch that hint of a pink tinge to his cheeks. No doubt a response to my penis comment—my lack of filter strikes again. "They're missing out on an amazingly brilliant woman."

I'd never really classified myself as a shy person, but his words conjured a blush from me as well, to an extent that I hadn't experienced since my awkward teenage years—and never due to a compliment like that. "Thanks. But hey, it's not like my biological clock is tolling like Big Ben quite yet, and I'm not on the fast track to becoming an old cat lady. And in the meantime, I get to hang out with someone I actually like and enjoy being around. I can completely be myself with you, and that's not something you find every day."

Edward gave me a warm smile, and I turned to grab the kettle to finish preparing our tea. We sat in companionable silence for a few minutes, and I watched as he distractedly used his spoon to bob the teabag in the water. His eyes looked distant, as if he were a million miles away in his mind; something that I'd noticed a bit more frequently lately.

"Edward, can I ask _you_ a personal question?"

"Sure. Shoot," he replied, giving me a sly grin as he mimicked me, and I rolled my eyes. "You want to know the same thing?"

"Not exactly," I said with a shrug, my eyes downcast. "But, yeah, sort of. I mean, I could totally understand someone being a bit gun-shy about relationships after what your ex did, but do you ever think about getting back out there?"

"Of course," Edward answered promptly, but a troubled look lingered in his eyes. "As a rule, I don't allow the actions of one person to define my opinion of a general populous. I can't honestly say that it's had _no_ effect on me. I did spend more than eight years with her, after all, and it will take some time to move past everything enough to put myself out there again. But a wife and family are something I would like to have someday, and that would be fairly difficult to attain without at least dating first, right? And until then, I have the pleasure of the company of someone I thoroughly enjoy spending time with as well."

"Cheers to that," I replied, raising my teacup to him, and he followed suit with his own and clinked them together gently.

We were on the same page, and that was a good thing…_I think._


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: A question was posed to me in a guest review for the last chapter. While I do not like to answer such questions in author's notes, as there are readers who wish to find out these things through the process of reading the story, I did want to take this opportunity to say that I will answer certain things privately. But I need a way to reply to you if you ask me a question like that. I can't reply to a guest review, so I can't tell you if you are wasting your time or not. My PM box is open if anyone wishes to ask me something that might determine if this story is not something they wish to continue reading, and I will reply as soon as I get a chance. So, please, feel free to do so.**

**And also, thank you for all the lovely reviews and encouragement for this story. It means the world to me.**

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**Chapter 8 **

Once spring finally arrived, I felt as if I was literally going to explode.

My restlessness had built to a boiling point over the seemingly endless winter. So much so that there had even been a few near misses between a ball and Edward's head—and other less-than-comfortable body parts—when I swung my racquet a little too hard.

And I wasn't even mad at him.

Part of it was being cooped up all winter. I hated snow and frigid cold, and it had been the worst season I could remember. My job was less than satisfying, with the project I was currently working on not giving me much of a challenge, but it was a paycheck until something better came along. Then, as much as I hated to admit it, I did miss dating…and sex. Since that conversation we had the month before on the topic, it had been on my mind more often than I wanted to admit. Yet, I couldn't say that the idea of going on a date and maybe even having sex again sometime in the near future was exactly unappealing. If only any guy I came across wasn't either too young, too old, boring, creepy—or Edward.

So, needless to say, the instant the ground thawed, and the temps reached above fifty degrees, I rang up my dad to bring my old truck down from Forks for the weekend and bolted to the nearest Lowe's with the cash I'd stowed away since Edward had moved in. Aside from the obvious need for grass seed, something I really wanted in my yard was lilac bushes. While growing up, the one thing I looked forward to every spring was the one in my father's back yard coming into bloom, and I would spend hours lying beneath it and inhaling the fragrant scent. I'd been sadly disappointed when I found out that my grandmother had to remove hers when a neighbor's dog had ravaged it to the point that it never healed, and eventually died.

Step one in the improvement of Bella Swan's yard: line the back fence with lilac bushes.

Edward had admittedly been a huge help, though I'd never intended to ask him for it. It was _my_ project, after all. However, he immediately offered when he saw my dad struggling to lug the large bushes off the truck bed.

Dad gave me a sideways glance before introducing himself to Edward, and I could already sense that it was going to be a _long_ weekend. No matter how many times I told him that we were _just_ friends, I would consistently get a sarcastic "uh-huh" in response.

Unsurprisingly, Edward was his normal, gracious self, while never appearing as if he was overdoing it due to my father's presence. I tried to concentrate on the task at hand; spreading seed, digging holes, crawling in the dirt, until the sun started lowering in the sky.

Wiping my arm across my forehead, I glanced around and surveyed the progress. I hadn't gotten nearly as much done as I had hoped, but I couldn't say I was entirely disappointed, either. The air smelled like fresh earth, the newly budding bushes stood lining the back fence, and the yard already looked a darn sight better. The sound of chuckling caused my head to turn and both Edward and my father were fighting back smirks.

"What's so funny?" I asked with narrowed eyes.

"Nothing, baby. Nothing at all," my father replied with another snicker and ducked inside the house.

Before Edward could do the same, I stood blocking his path with my hands on my hips, gazing at him intently with raised eyebrows. He was still barely restraining a laugh when he pointed to my forehead. "You've got a bit of something there, from your arm."

I looked at him in confusion for a moment before realization dawned on me, and I glanced down at my arms. Sure enough, the one I had just wiped across my forehead was absolutely covered in dirt, so I hated to even think about what my face looked like. "Well, if I was squeaky clean, I wouldn't have been doing it properly, right?"

I turned on my heel and made my way inside the house to clean up, oh-so-maturely sticking my tongue out at my dad as he muttered "traitor" under his breath at Edward.

Much to my disappointment, Edward politely declined my invitation to stay for dinner, not wanting to intrude on my time with Dad before he returned to Forks the next morning. As much as I loved spending time with my father, I knew that would leave an economy-sized window of opportunity open for the dad-to-daughter questioning I could see dwelling in his eyes.

The meal started off silently as he eagerly began devouring my roast, while my own stomach felt as if it was turning in on itself. I spent several minutes shoving food around my plate before I couldn't take it anymore and dropped my fork onto it. "If you have something to say, then just say it."

"The roast is really good, Bella. Even better than usual. Did you do something different?" Dad asked casually, raising another bite to his mouth.

I groaned, driving my hands into my hair and leaning back in my seat. "Dad, you know what I mean, and that's not it. There's nothing different about the roast except that it's straight out of the oven rather than leftover from last night. You've been giving me looks all day, and now, you're way too quiet, even for you. So, just get it off your chest."

My father breathed out slowly, setting down his own fork and taking a sip of his beer. "Edward seems like a really nice guy."

"Yeah, he is. Why do I sense a 'but' in there? Would you prefer it if I rented to a scumbag?" I asked, bristling at his words, as if he really was leading up to something more.

Dad leveled me with a look that usually preceded a "watch your tone with me, young lady" when I was a kid, and just as I had back then, I sighed and crossed my arms over my chest. "I'm worried about you, baby. I saw the way you looked at him, and I _definitely _saw the way he looked at you in those tiny shorts today."

"Dad!" I exclaimed, feeling my face flush at his insinuation that Edward had been looking at my legs, ass, or both. Though, I also remembered at that moment how thin the walls were and motioned for him to keep it down. "I know you find this hard to believe, but we are _just_ friends. We don't think about each other like that."

My father leaned forward on his arms, looking at me intently. "Bella, I know that's what you keep saying, and maybe that's even what you're telling yourself, but answer me this. How would you feel if he suddenly told you that he'd decided to return to England? Permanently. Not as a landlord, losing rental income, but _you_."

Despite the sip of tea I'd just taken, my mouth and throat felt parched, and my chest tightened instantly at his words, but I shook my head with a laugh. "That's a pretty ridiculous scenario, considering all he had to go through just to get his green card. So, it's a moot point."

My dad's eyes grew more serious, and he tilted his head, knowing I was dodging the question. "Suspend that logic and just answer me."

I drew in a deep breath, and my gaze lowered to my plate. To be honest, I had never really given any thought to the possibility of Edward leaving the States for good. How _would_ I feel if he returned home and never came back? No matter how much he had gone through with immigration just to obtain his green card, anything was possible. There could be a family emergency, better employment opportunity, or just something as simple as the homesickness getting to be too much. I knew he missed England; I'd seen it in his eyes and heard it in his voice whenever he would talk about home, and especially when he'd tell me about his nieces. However, he'd never even hinted about a desire to return on a permanent basis. I shrugged, still not looking at my dad. "I don't know. I'd miss him, obviously. He's a _really_ good friend, and we have a lot of fun together. So yeah, I'd be a bit upset, but it wouldn't be like I'd never see or hear from him again."

Even just speaking hypothetically was causing a terrible ache to rise in my chest, and when I looked at my dad, I found him nodding slowly. "I know, baby. I know. It's hard to believe that I was young once, too, or that I know what this feels like. But I do."

When had I started feeling that way? The fact that he was my tenant aside, Edward had just been my buddy, to game with and talk to. My racquetball partner, my neighbor, my _friend_. It was true that I'd noticed changes in my feelings of loneliness—easy to forget when he was around and mind-consuming when he wasn't. I looked forward to seeing him every day and was disappointed when I didn't.

How had I gone from _that_ to the dread I was experiencing at that moment, just at the _thought _of him returning to England?

I sighed, driving my hands into my hair and resting my elbows on the table. "What am I going to do, Dad? This is bad. _Really_ bad. I _can't_ let myself feel this way."

"You can't control how you feel, Bella. Unfortunately, that's something that just kinda takes on a life of its own," Dad answered with a sympathetic look on his face. "I'm afraid the only choices you have are to face it head on or try to move past it. Maybe spend more time with people who are _not_ Edward."

"You don't approve, then?" I asked, glancing at him questioningly.

My dad set his beer down after taking a sip and then folded his arms on the table, looking at me intently. "You are posing that question to a father of a daughter, and a very beautiful one at that. Nothing short of a bonafide saint would gain my full approval."

I rolled my eyes and huffed, leaning back in my chair. "Okay, if I wasn't your daughter, you'd think something was wrong with him?"

"Not at all. He's very polite and respectful, even if his eyes do tend to wander a bit much for my liking," he replied with a raised eyebrow, and I covered my face with another accompanying groan of "Dad!". When I finally looked at him again, his expression had resumed a very serious stance. "I don't have a problem with him at all, baby. My only concern, from the moment you were born to this one right here, is your happiness. If you think there is a way for you to find it with him, there would be nothing for me to object to, but you've said yourself that it's complicated."

_Well, if that wasn't an epic understatement,_ I thought to myself, and continued to do so long after my dad had turned in for the night, and I lay in bed, wide awake and deep in thought.

The entire notion was utterly ridiculous, not to mention impossible. Even if Edward wasn't my tenant and friend, he was not in a place in his life where he would be contemplating anything like that. I couldn't blame him, honestly; I would be hesitant to put myself back out there as well if I'd been screwed over the way his ex had with him. So, "facing it head-on" as my dad said would not only carry the likelihood of ending in disappointment for me, but it could also push Edward away. And while I could eventually find another tenant, a friendship like I'd formed with him was not something that could be replaced, even if I wanted to.

It appeared I only had the second option to go with—try to move past it.

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**Good luck with that, Bella… **

**Hope to see you all next week! Take care.**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: As stated in my update for Cleanup in Produce this morning, I apologize for the delay in updates lately. I've had no internet since my router died last month due to storms, and I've been recovering from being sick as well. Trying to get back into the swing of writing again. Thank you for your patience. **

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The best thing about embarking on huge projects such as I had was that it left less time to sit around and think—at least as long as I stayed busy. Even with Edward helping me as much as he could, it was easy to lose myself in crawling along the ground, getting absolutely covered in dirt while planting my flowers and shrubs, and even a small vegetable garden.

I was truly grateful for his help, especially when it came to things that were not intended to be a one-person job, like laying the stone patio and installing the retractable awning. He was still so enjoyable to be around, and it was the daily reminder I needed to keep my head clear—I cherished Edward's friendship so much. The last thing I wanted to do was to make things awkward if he found out, or even started suspecting, that I had ever started to feel anything more than friendship toward him. More importantly, I needed to protect myself as well, in the event that, unlikely as it might seem at that time, he might not be there forever.

I kept reminding myself that there was any number of reasons that my fear could become a reality—_too_ many. For starters, there was always the possibility that he could lose his job, even if that didn't seem like a probability. A position could open up back there, allowing him to be closer to his loved ones again. Or an emergency could crop up with his family. Or simply his homesickness becoming too much for him and needing to return to England.

As I said, it was easy not to think about those things as long as I kept busy, but there was only so much I could do with my yard before it would begin to look cluttered. Then, there was the time of day, once the sun had started to set, where my mind started to take over. I tried my best to hide it from Edward when we would have dinner or on our gaming nights—which _had_ grown more frequent. I couldn't _stand_ the thought of him eating junk takeout or microwave meals any more than necessary, when I always made more than enough. Cooking for one was difficult, not to mention utterly _boring_. And for the most part, I thought I was handling things pretty well.

The most difficult times for me were still late at night, when I would lie in the quiet, knowing he was right on the other side of the wall, and our racquetball matches. It was far too easy to take my frustrations out on that little ball, especially with Edward in my direct line of vision.

_This is not exactly what it means to "move past it", Swan. _

I would try and remind myself to lighten up, but I had so much tension built up inside me, I felt as if I would explode at times. I really did want to date again, and _damn_, did I miss sex more and more, but the options were still slim at best. Besides, no matter where I looked, nothing came close to what I actually wanted, and that was Edward.

Things came to a head, so to speak, one Friday night in mid-June. It had been an unusually muggy day, and even Edward came home from work a little cranky. The kids at the center had been particularly irritable, as children in general tended to be in such conditions, and he'd arrived home from the metro drenched in sweat and looking absolutely miserable. He initially declined my dinner invite, saying he was just going to shower and turn in, but I convinced him that he needed to eat, and a game of COD—which he had become quite good at, to be honest—would help him unwind and take his mind off things. He eventually agreed and promised to come over after he'd cleaned up.

Once we'd finished with dinner, we grabbed a couple of the beers he'd brought over with him and settled on the couch to play. At first, I thought I would have to invest in a new controller soon with the way he was beating on the buttons, but after a few zombie maps and a couple beers, he finally began to calm.

Before we knew it, midnight was closing in, and the long day and beers had caught up with us. Edward set the controller on the coffee table, but rather than stand to leave, he relaxed back on my couch with a heavy sigh and closed his eyes. I did the same, but more to distract myself from looking at him, and drained the remainder of my last beer.

"Thank you for tonight, Bella," Edward said after a few moments. "I'm really glad you convinced me to come over tonight."

"You're welcome," I replied, stretching to work out the kinks in my neck and lower back from sitting in one place for so long. "I couldn't, in good conscience, let you go to bed on an empty stomach and all stressed out like that. It's not healthy."

Edward hummed in agreement, taking a deep breath through his nose and slowly letting it out. "There really is nothing quite like killing a few hundred zombies to release tension after a horrid day at work."

"I agree, though a good shag works, too."

The words were out of my mouth before my brain could engage my filter, and the next thing I heard was Edward choking on the last sip of beer he'd just taken. I felt the flames ignite on my face and wished I could just sink into my couch and vanish from sight. Where the hell had that come from? Sure, my sexual frustration was at an all-time high, and the source for a majority of it was sitting right beside me, but I had never used that word before in my _life. _I even still giggled a little when Edward would come out with it from time to time if we were watching a movie or something.

Just as I thought I couldn't feel any more sick to my stomach, I heard Edward clear his throat and let out a small chuckle. "It's official. You've spent way too much time with me. I'm a bad influence on you."

I mustered the courage to glance over at him, and not only did he look a little uncomfortable, but his face and the tips of his ears were bright red. _Well done, Bella, _I groaned internally. I needed to switch gears, and fast. "Apparently, I need to start cutting myself off at two, since it appears three propels me into making an utter ass of myself."

Edward smiled somewhat shyly as I gestured toward my last empty beer bottle. "It's all right, Bella. We _are _both grown adults here, aren't we?"

"I know, but I still shouldn't have said it," I replied, gathering our bottles and bringing them out to the kitchen, more to occupy my mind with anything other than my humiliation.

"It's really fine. Though I should probably be off. It's late, and I want to get a run in early tomorrow," he said as he rose from the couch and headed toward the door. He wasn't meeting my eyes, and that was admittedly making me nervous. "Are you heading to Forks in the morning."

His question took me by surprise, and I glanced across the room toward him, finding his back to me and his hand stilled on the knob. "Yeah, I've been kinda neglecting my dad lately with all the work around here, and he called me up begging for a roast."

I heard Edward chuckle softly and watched the subtle movement of his shoulders that accompanied it, and then he finally looked at me. "Tell him I said hello. And thank you again for tonight. I really do feel much better. I'll see you Sunday, then?"

Though I knew I'd be back the following evening, I nodded and gave him a small wave as he bid me goodnight and left.

_Welcome to Awkwardville. Population: 2_

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_If I fall asleep now, I'll get five hours in. That should be sufficient._

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_That dripping faucet is really annoying. Note to self: Fix the sink._

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_Or at least call a damn plumber._

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_Come on, four hours would be much appreciated._

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_Did I remember to cover the roast in the fridge? Dad __hates__ dried out roast, even if he will never admit it._

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_Okay, yes, I definitely did. Right before Call of Duty with Edward…_

_Oh Edward. Please get out of my head._

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_Three and a half. Just three and a half hours. Please._

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_My dad will understand if I'm a little late as long as I call and let him know so he doesn't worry._

_Trying again for five. I can do this. I can __absolutely__ do this._

_THUD!_

…_Did Edward just punch the wall? Are my thoughts that loud?_

_Oh my God, Bella Swan, stop being ridiculous! He probably just flailed his arm in his sleep!_

_I know! I'm just so tired!_

_Then go to sleep!_

"Oh, great. Now my brain is having conversations with _itself_. No, I'm not losing it at all," I whispered sarcastically, pulling my pillow over my face to muffle my groan. Then I abruptly stopped—if I could hear noises from Edward's side that were softer than that, it would be entirely possible for him to have heard me and gotten the wrong idea, even at three in the morning.

Not that I hadn't contemplated the "wrong idea" quite often lately, with thoughts of Edward filling my mind in the quiet hours of the night. Yet, one thing I'd learned in the experiences I'd had, both with a guy and alone, was that I was not quiet, no matter how hard I tried. My body tended to be a bit hypersensitive in general, but as arousal increased, so did the sensitivity. It seriously annoyed me more often than not, even with as good as my orgasms would feel when I had them.

_Damn it, this is __not__ helping._

I turned over roughly in my bed and stuffed the pillow back under my head, punching it a few times, but as my thighs came together, I had to literally bite my tongue to keep quiet. What the hell was wrong with me? I had been doing just fine on my own, feeling no need for a man in my life in quite some time, and only _occasionally_ needing a little tension relief. Now, just because an extremely sexy, unattainable man with an accent that actually had the power to make me weak in the knees, moved in next door, I was a walking, breathing ball of hormones.

_This is really not what I need to be thinking about hours before I'm supposed to go see my __father_.

"Sleep, Bella. You need to sleep," I chanted softly to myself, determined to put both my hormones _and_ Edward Cullen out of my mind.

.

.

.

Yeah, that didn't work so well, and I actually had to call and lie to my father, saying that I was sick, since I was too tired to drive. I must have been somewhat convincing because he sounded genuinely concerned, rather than giving me the "uh-huh" he would have if he knew I was lying…which made me feel even worse.

Although, if I was being completely honest, it really wasn't far from the truth. Between my level of exhaustion from no sleep the night before and the dread of not knowing what to expect the next time I saw Edward, even the cup of tea I made didn't help settle my nausea. In fact, if anything, it only served to remind me of my handsome neighbor, and the reason _why_ I was as tired as I was.

There was no way to deny that my father had been right all along. The feelings I had for Edward hadn't suddenly cropped up out of nowhere but had been building little by little all along. It was more than simple loneliness, or missing dating and sex. I had been falling for _him_.

As I'd said to my father—this was bad. _Really_ bad.

My heart was setting itself up to be broken. Even if he never left the States and remained permanently, he didn't see me like _that_. No man was as relaxed and comfortable in a woman's presence as he was with me when we hung out, if there was anything more than friendship simmering underneath.

Yet, one thing was for certain. Moving past it was also not going to be happening anytime soon. I was in way too deep.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Again, as stated in Cleanup in Produce, I am very sorry about the lack of updates again. The flu bug I had decided it was just not done with me yet, it appears, and paid me another visit. And now I have a ton of catching up to do with household chores and such before ericastwilight comes out for another visit in a little over a week. Still going to try to get some writing done, but I've had very little time at my computer lately. Erica usually give me an ass kicking when she visits as well, so *fingers crossed*. Take care!**

* * *

**Chapter 10**

If I was being honest, I expected the fallout from that night to be far worse than it was. I'd almost anticipated him to cease all association with me that didn't involve our relationship as tenant and landlord. Thankfully, that wasn't the case, even if there were definitely some noticeable, awkward silences at times, and neither of us seemed to be able to look at Call of Duty the same way. Yet, I would be lying if I said things were quite the same as they were had been as a whole, either. While he still came over for dinner a couple nights a week, our weekly racquetball matches continued, and we still played video games and watched movies together, I could still feel the tension between us on occasion.

Like when I would shift a little uncomfortably on the couch during a steamy love scene in one of my romantic comedies, and he subtly cleared his throat. Or the night I had given in to the pent-up sexual frustration and bit into a pillow to muffle the noise, and I swore he couldn't look me in the eye the next day.

The worst example of it, however, happened on his birthday. I had invited him over for dinner, with the intent of making him something special, that he had mentioned that he missed on several occasions—Yorkshire pudding. I'd found a recipe online and thought it looked simple enough, yet when I opened the oven, each one was collapsed and hard as a rock. I didn't have time to try again, as Edward was due to arrive at any moment, and it would have ruined the surprise if he saw me attempting to remake it. So, I did the only thing I could in that moment to keep from crying—I screamed out in irritation.

My door flew open less than a minute later, and Edward came rushing in, his hair still wet from the shower he'd obviously been taking after work, his eyes gazing at me worriedly. "Bella? What's wrong?"

I could only stare at him for a moment as damp spots began to appear on his T-shirt; evidence that he had not even finished drying off before throwing it on to come and check on me, and accentuated more by his bare feet. The tears I had been trying to force back spilled over my lids and down my cheeks, only increasing my frustration, as well as the distressed look on his face. "Nothing. I was just trying to do something special for your birthday, and I've screwed it up. It's an utter disaster."

Edward's brow furrowed more, and he glanced behind me to see the pan of virtual hockey pucks on the stove top. He brought his hand to his mouth and rubbed his fingers across his lips in what I was sure was his attempt to refrain from laughing. I found that I was right when I grabbed the oven mitt and threw it at him, and the lines around his eyes deepened and a hearty chuckle escaped him.

"It's not funny! I've managed far more complicated things, but _this,_ I mess up," I said with a huff, folding my arms over my chest in aggravation, but my tears continued to fall anyway.

Edward made an honest effort to stop laughing and stepped toward me, pulling me into his embrace and holding me against him. "Bella, it was a lovely thought and that's what matters, not the end result. And I really appreciate it. Thank you."

I turned my head to rest my cheek against his chest, and my arms circled around his waist. Even in the heated kitchen, standing right next to the oven, I found the humid warmth of his body to be comforting rather than stifling, and that, in itself, was disconcerting. "You're welcome. I hope I didn't screw up dinner, too."

Edward gazed down at me with a curious look in his eyes as I attempted to casually back away from his hold without appearing uncomfortable. When I stepped over to the table and lifted the lids covering the plates, a broad smile stretched across his face. "Is that what I think it is?"

"I really hope so," I replied with a chuckle as we both settled into our seats. "The British appear to have _really_ weird names for just about _everything_, so I went with bangers and mash, since it was the least odd sounding. But since I even screwed up Yorkshire pudding…"

"It's not that hard to mess up on your first attempt, quite honestly," Edward remarked before taking a bite of his meal, while I anxiously watched him for a reaction. His face remained expressionless for a moment until I groaned in irritation, and his smile returned. "It's excellent, Bella. The only thing that would make it better is some blood sausage."

I could swear I felt all the color drain from my face and quickly replaced by a tinge of green. "Okay, that even _sounds _disgusting."

"It is. Just wanted to see the look on your face," Edward replied with a smirk, and then broke into a laugh as I nudged his foot with mine under the table. "My granddad used to love them, and just the smell of them is enough to put you off, and I swear, it lingered in the air of my grandmother's kitchen for _days_ after. Thankfully, my father didn't inherit that particular trait, so my brother and I were never subjected to it at home growing up. So, where did you get the recipe for the Yorkshire pudding?"

"Some website," I said with a shrug as I began eating my food—which _was_ really good, in fact—and grabbed my phone to open the page. Once it loaded, I passed the device over to him, and almost immediately, he began shaking his head. "It's that bad?"

Edward slid it back over to me and returned to his meal. "There's no way you'd get anything edible out of that. I can't make it to save my life, and even _I _know that's _way_ too much flour, by at least half a cup."

"Well, at least it wasn't _entirely_ user error," I replied with a sigh of relief, and after an encouraging shake of his head, we fell into comfortable silence to resume eating.

Everything seemed to be returning to normal between us—until the time came to call it a night shortly after dinner and a cup of tea, since he still had to work the next day.

We stood at the front door, and it was as if I could see the wall of awkwardness and tension building up again. Edward's hands slid into the pockets of his jeans and his eyes became intently focused on his feet, while my heart began constricting. I felt like grabbing him and pulling him into my arms, and beg him to look at me, but it turned out that I didn't have to. Yet, what I saw there when his eyes met mine wasn't exactly comforting, either. They appeared to flicker over different areas of my face, focusing on my forehead for a mere second before moving to my cheek, then on to my chin and so on. How I would have loved to know what was going on behind those green depths—or perhaps, I didn't?

The silence between us only lingered for a few moments more before he finally spoke again, but my heart was already trying to hammer its way out of my chest. "Thank you for the wonderful birthday dinner tonight, Bella. It was amazing."

"Except for the Yorkshire pudding," I added with a soft chuckle, though how I kept my voice as level as I did, I had no idea.

He breathed out an adorable, almost boyish laugh and lowered his eyes again, licking and biting his lip gently with a shake of his head for a second before looking at me again. "I can ask Mum to email me a proper recipe next time she rings if you're interested. She can practically make it in her sleep."

I smiled and nodded, feeling a brief modicum of relief at the break in tension. "I actually am. I'd like to know what it's _supposed _to look and taste like, since I enjoyed the bangers and mash so much. Though, I still think it's a weird name."

"Okay, I'll do that," Edward replied and then leaned toward me to brush his lips against my cheek.

I turned my head slightly, intending on kissing his in return, but instead, the corners of our mouths touched instead. We both froze for an instant, yet rather than either of us retracting, our heads slightly tilted more, and our lips gradually molded together. All thought left my mind completely as I felt his arms slide around my waist and pull me closer, and I circled his shoulders with mine.

For that one moment, nothing existed but the feel of his lips against mine—none of my reasons for moving past anything I was feeling for him seemed to matter. Not him being my tenant, or any possibility that he would return to England…_nothing_.

However, it all flooded back to me the second we began to pull apart and slowly met each other's gazes. I'd just crossed the line with him that I swore I wouldn't, just as things were starting to return to normal for us—nor had he stopped it. He had been an equal participant, and I also didn't seem to be the only one confused by that fact.

As he stepped back, Edward lowered his eyes again, his brow tightening and cheeks hallowing as if in deep thought before clearing his throat to speak. "I, uh…I should go. Thank you again."

I stood there in stunned disbelief for a moment as I watched him hurry out the door, then closed my own eyes, tugging at the all too short strands of my hair and muttering, "Fuck."


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Hello everyone. Been a long time, and I know a few of you have messaged me about this, but I only just realized within the last week or so that notifications for PMs were not going out. And apparently, they still aren't, as I had PMs waiting for me this morning as well. So, I haven't completely dropped off the planet, but I haven't even had much of a chance to log on here lately, let alone have much time to write at all. Trying to squeeze in what I can between stuff I have going on right now, so hopefully there will be more updates soon for both this story and Cleanup in Produce. March is a busy month with three birthdays, including my own son's, and requests for handmade gifts have been made, and I want to make sure they are done on time. But I also miss writing and these characters of mine, so I'll work on my time management :) Thank you for your patience, and I hope to be posting regularly again soon. Take care!**

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**Chapter 11 **

Over the next two days, I kept praying that everything would be okay by Friday, but I realized how naïve that thought had been when he texted me that afternoon.

_Have a meeting at work. Can't make our match or dinner. I'm sorry._

While I couldn't imagine Edward lying to me about something like that—or _anything_, for that matter—there were a few seeds of doubt planted in my mind. It had taken more than a couple of days for us to get past an innocent _comment_, even if he hadn't completely avoided me like that before.

Clearly, it was bothering me more than I wanted to admit, since my dad and Sue seemed to be treading lightly around me when I visited the next day. No questions were asked, but I caught a few very concerned glances from my father before he would suddenly start talking about something trivial—which wasn't like him at all.

Days passed without seeing much of Edward at all, and I couldn't deny that I felt his absence even more than I did before when he wasn't around me—almost pathetically so. Yet, although I didn't want to press the matter too much and risk pushing him farther away, I began to feel that things might not ever be the same between us again. Then, what I felt was my worst nightmare at that point in my life appeared to materialize that following Wednesday.

It was a quiet evening with the exception of the expletives leaving my mouth at the Assassin's Creed game I was playing for the umpteenth time, because Arno wasn't cooperating. I almost didn't hear the soft, tentative knock on my door, but the sound startled me, as I hadn't been expecting anyone.

"Hey," I said in surprise when I opened it to find Edward standing there. "You okay?"

Edward nodded and then met my eyes, chuckling softly as he noted the concerned look on my face. "Yes, I'm fine. No catastrophe this time."

My breath released, and I felt my body relax. The last time he had knocked on my door so unexpectedly was when his ex had attempted to drain his bank account. "Oh, well, that's a relief. So, what's up? You wanna come in for some tea or something?"

"No, thank you. I just came to give you this," he stated, holding his hand out to me with a check in it.

"Why are you giving me this now? The first is still a few days away," I asked with a chuckle, gazing down at the rent payment I had in my hand.

"I won't be here then," Edward replied, and my eyes sharply returned to him. "I'll be in England."

I literally stumbled backward with the gust of breath that left me, causing him to gaze at me in confusion. My dad was absolutely right; the thought of him returning to England was painful, but the reality of it was almost crushing. So, I tried to collect myself as best as I could, taking a slow breath through my nose and attempted to chuckle in an effort to mask it all. "You realize this is already covered, right?"

Edward's brow only furrowed deeper. "How's that?"

"With your initial payment when you moved in. You don't owe me anything. There's just usually more notice, but I understand," I replied, keeping my eyes lowered as I held the check out to him and hoping that the tears I felt burning in my eyes would remain at bay.

"What?" For a moment, it was completely silent between us, but he also made no move to take the check back, and then he sighed. "Bella, may I come in?"

I wanted to shake my head as I felt my heart twisting in my chest, but I knew that would only raise more questions from him. So, I nodded and stepped back instead, allowing him inside, and then felt his hand on mine.

Yet, rather than taking the check back, he lowered my arm to my side. "I'd still like to have a place to live when I come back, if that's all right."

My eyes slowly raised to meet his again, and I swallowed hard. "So, you're not going _back_ back?"

"No, of course not, and I would definitely give both you _and_ my employer more notice if I was. Aside from being my landlord, you are more importantly, my friend. I wouldn't just suddenly up and leave without a proper goodbye," he said in that soothing tone of his that I both loved and loathed, especially in that moment when I didn't want to break down and cry with relief in front of him.

"You just haven't said anything about going back for a visit at all. Going to England is not exactly a spur of the moment road trip that only requires a little bit of gas money and snacks."

Edward chuckled at my statement and shook his head. "No, it's not, and normally, that's true, but I told you that my niece's christening was coming up, right?"

I thought back on our conversations of late, and in fact, he _had_ mentioned that a few weeks back. "You did, just not that you were going."

"I wasn't sure I would be able to, but I got things sorted at work so my kids will be covered while I'm gone. So, I bought my ticket tonight and wanted to make sure all my bills were paid up before I leave Friday morning." Edward paused, gazing at me silently for a moment, before continuing. "What would make you think I was going back for good?"

I waved my arms out with a huff of frustration. As much as I didn't want to reveal how much I'd actually thought about the very thing he was asking me, I felt as if I might burst if I didn't. "There are any number of reasons that you would suddenly want to go back home, Edward. Family. Work. Just _wanting_ to. Having a green card doesn't necessarily bind you to this country for any given time. You could leave tomorrow and never come back."

"That is true, and I _do_ miss my family, obviously, but that hasn't changed at any point in the last four years. I love my job, and I enjoy living here. If going back to England permanently was something I wanted at this point in my life, I wouldn't have bothered applying for my green card when my time was up on the work visa," Edward explained calmly, though his body language told a different story. His posture was somewhat stiff, and he suddenly could not seem to meet my eyes.

I glanced at the clock on the wall, noting that it was only half past seven, and even on weeknights, he rarely went to bed before nine. So, I reached for his arm and guided him to the couch to sit down, powering down my television and turning to face him. "Edward, I know how powerful homesickness can be. I used to think about moving back to Forks all the time. I miss my dad and Sue. I miss the quiet. I don't want to right _now, _but that's not to say it doesn't cross my mind occasionally."

"Yeah, I do think about it once in a while, and maybe someday far in the future, I _will_ go back for good, but that's definitely not now," Edward replied, his voice a bit tense, and then he sighed and swallowed hard. "Why is this such a worry for you? As previously stated, I would give you more than a couple days' notice if I were planning to leave. I wouldn't leave you high and dry."

"I don't care about losing a tenant or rental income!" I exclaimed, my voice raising an octave or two, and then pressed my lips together tightly to collect myself before continuing. "I care about _you_, Edward, and things have already been different between us lately, even when you weren't completely avoiding me as you have since what happened last week. You can't deny that."

"No, I can't," Edward replied, leaning forward slightly. At first, I was afraid that he was standing up to leave, but instead, he simply rested his elbows on his knees. "Look, dropping off the rent check was more of an _excuse _to stop by tonight than the reason. I couldn't leave for England with things as they are at the moment, and not without at least apologizing."

"Apologizing," I repeated in a whisper, feeling myself deflate even more as I shifted to settle into the couch beside him, thrusting my head back against the cushion. I could feel his gaze on me, but mine wouldn't leave the ceiling as I fought back tears. "So, you regret it."

"Kissing you? Decidedly not," Edward responded, and I felt as if my neck should have snapped with the force of my head spinning toward him. Yet, it seemed to be his turn to be unable to meet my eyes. "Doing so in such a fashion, absolutely."

I was struck speechless for a moment, attempting several times to speak, only to be left with my mouth hanging open more than once. My mind was spinning so fast, I felt dizzy while still seated. "What exactly do you mean by that?"

"Bella, as I said, you are my landlord, and more importantly, my friend," Edward began, finally turning his head toward me, and his eyes met mine, while I tried to hide the sting I was feeling from his words. "Not that I find anything necessarily wrong with having an attraction to either, but I acted on impulse rather than logic. You'd just made me a lovely dinner, and I ruined it by not thinking with my head. I'm very sorry I kissed you so brashly, without invite. I have no excuse for my behavior."

"Are you kidding me?" I blurted out in return, feeling my eyes widen, and even in my own mind, I could imagine I looked pretty comical. "_That's_ why you've been avoiding me? Because you think I'm offended or something? Correct me if I'm wrong, but I seem to recall kissing you back. I am not the kind of woman to kiss someone simply because they are kissing me. I would have smacked you if it was unwelcome, friend or not."

Edward gave an uneasy chuckle, his gaze falling to his folded hands. "I have absolutely no doubt about that, if your racquetballs aimed at various uncomfortable parts of my body are any indication."

Despite the hint of humor in his voice, I couldn't help but wince slightly. Granted, it would have been difficult for him to have _not_ noticed, with as many times as he'd had to duck and dodge them with increasing frequency over the past few months, but it was still embarrassing. I mumbled another soft apology and heard a quiet laugh escape him, but when I finally looked at him again, the amusement had faded from his eyes. "You mean a lot to me, Bella, and I hate the thought that you might even be slightly angry with me. I'm sorry I've made things so awkward and frustrating between us, just because I've had a lot on my mind lately. There's nothing for you to apologize for."

"We're _both_ guilty of that. And I'm not angry at you at all. I just miss you. You're right next door, and I miss you. Hell, even just across the table some nights, it seems like there's already an ocean between us." I groaned, thrusting my head back against the couch again. "I hate this feeling, but I don't know how to fix it, either."

"I miss you, too," Edward mumbled so softly that I barely caught it, and my gaze returned to him to find his fixed on the floor at his feet. "I can't lie to you and say what's transpired between us has _nothing_ to do with my decision to visit home. Last minute flights to England aren't exactly pocket change, after all. But I'm not running away, either. I just need to clear my head a bit is all. We _will _talk more when I get back."

My head bobbed slowly, but still kept my eyes focused on the ceiling. "How long will you be gone?"

"Two weeks," Edward murmured softly, and finally, our gazes met again at the same instant.

"That's a lot of head clearing," I replied with a small chuckle, which he echoed as he nodded. "Can I still at least text you? Friday nights are gonna be a tad dull around here, you know."

Edward tilted his head with a sigh, and then shifted in his seat to face me and gently grazed my cheek with his fingertips. "Of course, you can text me, Bella. Or call, or Facetime…"

"You at least need an iPhone or some sort of Apple product for that, Edward," I retorted with a roll of my eyes, knowing damn well he still had an Android that was at _least _five years old. "Besides, I have no idea how you even read texts through that giant spiderweb on your screen. I'd look like an old, evil Disney witch with skin like the Sahara through that."

At last, Edward released a full-bodied laugh for the first time, and oh, how I had missed that sound over the last week. So, I didn't feel my usual annoyance with his amusement at one of my many quirks. I was one of those people that had to seriously fight the urge to buy a new phone the instant I found even a surface scratch on it…or at least, replace the screen protector. Which was something Edward had noticed and repeatedly pointed out that was _always_ present—like I said, quirk. "I am aware of that fact. My brother actually gifted me an iPad last Christmas, since according to him, I am still living in the stone age of technology."

"Well, he's not wrong," I replied with a half-smile tugging at the corner of my mouth. "I'm actually surprised this is the first I've heard of this. It's been six whole months, and not one single complaint about an Apple product invading your residence? I'm impressed."

Yeah, Edward was not a fan of Apple products, or newer technology in general. If it were up to him, he'd probably still be content with a flip phone, and even then, only for work and calls to family.

"Actually, he did get an earful when it arrived in the post. In fact, it's still in the shipping box in my closet," Edward said, chuckling softly, and I did my best to return the gesture, but failed.

Despite my own attempts at humor, my heart was aching. If I had missed him as much as I had over the past week with him right next door, the next two weeks with an entire continent and ocean between us was going to be damn near excruciating. Yet, the last thing I wanted to do was make him feel guilty for wanting to visit his family and meet his new niece.

My silence had lingered long enough to prompt a heavy sigh from him, and he shifted closer, tentatively reaching over to take my hand in his. "I care for you a great deal, Bella, and the last thing I ever want to do is hurt you. I just need a little time to sort out my head before we have any further discussion. But that, in no way, means that I want to cease all communication in the meantime."

"You did, though. It's been almost complete radio silence between us for an entire week," I huffed in frustration.

"Because I was afraid you were angry, not because I didn't want to talk to you," he countered, keeping a gentle, yet firm hold on my hand. "And I do not wish for you to think that this is something I have absolutely no interest in. I just want to make sure my head is where it needs to be before we have a conversation about progressing this further. There's a lot at stake here. Finding another place to live would be simple enough. You, however, are impossible to replace."

I nodded, trying to mask the shiver that ran through me with his words. He had interest, which was a relief; our kiss was not just an impulse of the moment. Yet, it would also be the first time he would be venturing into something like that since the end of a significantly long-term relationship—I had nothing to compare to that. I knew it wasn't _her_ he needed to move past, as we had already discussed that quite some time beforehand, but I also knew that moving past violated trust was more difficult for some than others. And he was important enough to me to make him well worth the wait, so I threaded my fingers between his and gave his hand a gentle squeeze. "So are you."

Edward's responding smile was soft but enough to deepen the creases around his eyes, and he lifted our joined hands to kiss the back of mine. "I promise, we will talk more when I get back."

"Okay," I whispered in response, and for several moments, we sat there in silence, just gazing at each other. A part of me was begging for him to kiss me again, but the more sensible part of me knew that taking things one step at a time would probably be the most logical course of action—but damn, how I wanted him to. _Talk first, kiss later_, my mind chanted as we rose together when he mentioned having to work in the morning and headed toward the door, our hands still joined. "Look, I know you're going to be busy getting ready to leave between now and Friday, but will I at least see you before you go?"

Edward gave my hand a gentle tug, pulling me toward him and into his arms, and embraced me warmly. "Of course. I'll stop by tomorrow after work for a bit, if you'd like. I have an early flight Friday, so I will probably do my sleeping on the plane anyway."

With my cheek pressed against his chest, I could hear his heart thrumming beside my ear, and I gave a brisk nod as I held him a little tighter for a moment. When I felt his hands beginning to rub up and down my back, it was the reminder I needed that he did actually need sleep _that_ night. I released my hold and stepped back from him, and he turned toward the door. "Hey, dig out that iPad before you go to bed and charge it, and we can get it all set up tomorrow. Before long, you'll be as addicted as every other Apple nerd in this world."

Edward laughed and shook his head. "I highly doubt that, Bella."

"You also thought video games were a waste of time and money in the not so distant past," I retorted with an eyebrow raised in challenge.

"Touché. Although, I _do_ still think they are a bit overpriced in some cases." We shared a laugh, and then he nodded. "I'll make sure it's charged tonight. Good night."

"Night," I replied as he closed the door behind him, and I leaned my forehead against it. Progress had definitely been made, but we still had a long road ahead of us, that was for certain.


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: **As mentioned in Cleanup in Produce, I'm sorry for the lack of updates for most of this year. 2020 and everything that's come along with it has made it nearly impossible to concentrate with everyone home and in such close quarters so often. Then this unusually hot summer, even for Arizona, it's been like cabin fever in a New England winter. Hope the temps start going down soon, and I can get outside, where I managed to write a majority of these chapters over the couple of decent days we had last week. Thank you for coming back!

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**Chapter 12**

By the second day following Edward's departure, I felt as if I was losing my mind. I knew we both needed time to process and get our thoughts together before we had any further discussion about whatever the future might hold for us; that much was obvious. I also didn't want to be _that_ person that would relentlessly bug him while he was having some much desired time with his family, and two days really wasn't _that_ long to not hear from him—but the waiting was slowly killing me.

"Quit with the dramatics," I muttered to myself as I sat on the couch Sunday morning, bored senseless and staring at the box of doughnuts I'd bought. With the exception of the last couple, tension-filled weeks, at that moment, Edward and I would usually be sitting down to the breakfast he'd brought over, and it had thoroughly spoiled me. Doughnuts were absolutely no comparison to what I had become accustomed to, but I didn't have the ambition it would take to cook, either.

I wasn't too stubborn to admit that I missed him. Even to Edward, though in a slightly less direct manner.

_I hate doughnuts now. Thanks a lot. _I chuckled as I typed out the text, attaching a photo of the box with my hand holding a note reading "NOT the breakfast of champions" in front of it. Setting my phone down on the coffee table, I settled back on the couch with the doughnuts in my lap and stared down at the selection once I'd opened it.

Thrilling choices—powdered, cinnamon, or chocolate-coated.

"Anything worth doing is worth doing right," I mumbled softly, grasping one of the powdered ones. "It ain't doughnut time unless you're a white, powdery mess by the end."

Just as I was taking the first bite, my phone vibrated on the table, causing me to jump a little. I even inhaled a bit of the confectioner's sugar up my nose as I quickly sat up to grab it, and then saw the text from Edward—"Attachment: 1 image". Upon opening the message, I saw an image that looked familiar, and it made my stomach do a little flip.

It was a photo of a dinner plate, containing what appeared to be the last meal that Edward and I ate together. Bangers and Mash. Suddenly, the image shifted up with a message coming through.

_I was just thinking of you tonight as well. Don't tell Mum, but I think yours is better ;)_

I felt a smile tug at my lips as my chest constricted minutely. Knowing something as trivial as a meal would bring me to his mind made my heart soar. Yet, reading his "tonight" as I was sitting there at ten in the morning eating breakfast somehow made him feel that much further away.

"Not helping in the 'missing Edward' department, Bella. I need to stop being so morose and lighten things up a bit," I said as I drew in a deep breath and began typing.

_Didn't your mother teach you that it's wrong to lie, Edward? Thanks for the ego boost, though :P So what are you up to tonight?_

I closed my eyes for a moment and could almost hear his chuckle in my mind as he read my message. A soft rumble from somewhere between his throat and chest, followed by a soft, breathy exhale through his nose.

My lord, I needed to stop obsessing so much, I thought as my phone buzzed again.

_Jasper and I have the baby while my sister is out for the night, so we are taking this opportunity to introduce her to Lord of the Rings._

I imagined I must have looked comical when my eyes shot open wide and my jaw dropped.

_Edward Cullen! I'm in my twenties, and those movies are too scary for ME! What are you doing to that child?!_

Barely a few seconds had passed after hitting send, and I received a notification that I had an incoming Facetime call from Edward. As quickly as I could manage, I wiped my mouth with a napkin to remove any leftover sugar from my lips before I accepted the call. A mass of streaking images appeared on my screen as Edward attempted to stabilize the iPad to focus on him, and I pressed my lips tightly together to keep from laughing.

"You are bloody hopeless, mate. Here, give it to me," an unfamiliar voice came through, and when the image finally stilled, the face centered on the screen was definitely not Edward. "Hello, Bella. Nice to finally put a face to the name. I'm Jasper, this idiot's brother."

I gave a small wave with a chuckle, listening to Edward's muffled voice, clearly trying to filter out profanities. The image shifted again in a blur but finally settled on the face I had missed so much in the past two days, and my heart started beating a little faster. All the strain that had been present in his features before he'd left on Friday seemed to have vanished. He looked calm and relaxed, and even in a pseudo argument with Jasper, the contented smile on his face was unmistakable. Unbiddenly, the thought crossed my mind that it was the happiest I had ever seen him, and a coil formed in my stomach—_what if this makes him decide to remain there? _

Edward's gaze focused straight at the screen, and that nagging feeling of dread seemed to evaporate as the corners of his mouth turned up even more. He was happy to see me. "Hey. Don't mind him. He's a pain in the…"

Rather than vocalize the word that would have followed, he softly cleared his throat for emphasis, and I laughed again in response. "Sounds like you're having a good time, though."

His eyes softened a little, and he nodded. "Yeah, I really am. But first of all, to answer your question, no child shall be traumatized during the viewing of said movie. Jasper and I value our lower region too much to risk the wrath of Alice like that."

My brows tugged together in confusion until the camera tilted downward toward Edward's chest, panning from a mass of blonde ringlets to the cherubic, slumbering face of his eight-month-old niece, Charlotte. Her tiny fingers were curled around the fabric of his gray t-shirt, and her pacifier bobbed intermittently as she suckled in her sleep. An odd sensation moved through my chest and settled in my stomach at the sight of how natural and, if I was being completely honest, sexy he was with a baby curled against him, obviously feeling very comfortable and safe in her uncle's arms.

_No, I do not have baby fever…but damn, does he look good holding a baby and would probably make one hell of a dad._

The camera rose again to focus on Edward's face, shaking me out of those thoughts. "It's been a very long day, with the christening this morning and all, so Jasper is actually going to be putting both girls to bed in a few. Then, it's just us, a few beers, and Tolkien for the next four glorious hours. Little eyes and ears will be quite safe."

I made a motion of crossing my eyes in response to the ridiculous length of the movie, and then another little face appeared on the screen that I recognized as his other niece, Sophie. Unlike her sister, she had almost ink-black hair and a pair of green eyes that seemed more vivid than Edward's, even through a video chat.

"That your friend, Uncle Edward?" the little girl, who already appeared to be half asleep, asked, pointing at the screen with one hand and rubbing her eye with the other.

"Yes, that is my friend, Bella, from the States. Can you say hi?" Edward replied softly, and she mumbled a quiet "hello" and slid her tiny arms around his.

"I wanna stay up and watch, too," Sophie protested with an adorable pout on her face, leaning her head against Edward's shoulder.

He kissed the top of her head, which seemed to encourage her to snuggle closer. "You've been up since five this morning, love. You need your sleep. Besides, you know what Mum and Dad said."

"Daddy says I gotta wait 'til I'm eight, but Mummy says not 'til uni. It's not fair." Sophie's lips pursed in a deeper pout until he whispered something just soft enough that I couldn't make it out, and then a smile began stretching across her face. "Okay, night, Bella!"

I returned her wave as I watched her turn her head to kiss Edward on the cheek, bidding him good night as well and quickly disappeared, as did Charlotte when Jasper lifted her from his arms. His gaze followed them for a moment, leaving my mind to wander. Hearing him refer to me as his "friend" stung a bit, despite logic reminding me that it was, in fact, all we still were at that point, not to mention what a four-year-old could understand. How else was he supposed to explain it to her, when even we were still trying to sort it all out for ourselves? When his eyes returned to me, I managed to smile and quickly tried to lighten my mood. "Well, that sure was a quick turnaround. How'd you manage that one?"

Edward chuckled. "Her mother finally let her see that first Harry Potter movie, and she's been begging me to watch it with her pretty much since the moment I landed, so I told her we could in the morning if she went to bed without an argument. Although, from what I've heard of that movie, I can't understand how she's all right with her watching that, but not Lord of the Rings."

"There is no comparison, but wait, you've never seen Harry Potter?" I asked, my eyes widening in shock.

"This coming from the woman who's never watched Lord of the Rings," Edward retorted, challenging me with a raised eyebrow.

I sighed heavily and rolled my eyes. "As you just pointed out, Edward…_four hours_. Just for _one_ movie!"

"There's a lot of content in those four hours, not just a bunch of kids going to some magic school," Edward countered with a smirk.

"Oh no, you did not," I shot back with a laugh, enjoying the atmosphere, even with thousands of miles between us. I'd missed debating with him and our banter as we did so, with no awkwardness or discomfort. I didn't want it to end, so without even taking a moment to ponder my next words, I took it a step further. "Okay, I will make you a deal. When you get back, I will sit down and watch one of the Lord of the Rings movies with you, if _you_ watch Harry Potter with me."

Edward's lips twisted in thought, then a devious glint appeared in his eyes along with his smile. "Well, since I'm already going to be watching the first Harry Potter in the morning, I think we should up the ante. You watch along with me now, and we'll watch a Harry Potter film when I get back."

"It would be a little difficult to watch along on a TV over Facetime, and I don't own the DVDs or anything, obviously. So that won't exactly work."

"I do," Edward replied with a casual shrug. "And you have a key to my front door, so next argument."

I growled in frustration, which only made him laugh harder. "I'm not going to break into your house for a damn movie. That key is reserved for something like gas leaks or medical emergencies, Edward."

"It's not breaking in when I give you permission to enter. Besides, I trust you, even if I _didn't_ have you on Facetime."

I sat silently for a moment, mulling it all over. I had just been bemoaning about how much I missed him, and if nothing else, it would be an opportunity to spend some time with him, rather than waiting another two weeks. Perhaps it would be worth the long-ass movie, and it wasn't as if I had anything else planned for the day. I couldn't help but play up my annoyance, though—it was just too much fun with him. "Ugh, I can't believe I'm agreeing to this, but it won't be the same, since I refuse to hold my phone up the whole time so you can see me. And I'm not going to annoy your brother with my commentary anyway."

"Oi! No way!" I heard Jasper call out in the background. "We want all your bloody reactions, Ms. Swan!"

"It's a novelty for Jasper to come across a Tolkien virgin. He's been a full-fledged, loud-and-proud geek all his life," Edward said, speaking more toward Jasper than me as I grabbed the spare key to his place from my kitchen drawer and headed out my door. "And you can always grab your iPad and prop it on the coffee table. Completely hands-free."

"You have to think of absolutely everything, don't you?" I grumbled, sliding the key into the lock and opening the door. His scent was the first thing that struck me as I stepped inside, and it took everything in me not to tear up in full view of him. "So, where am I looking?"

"Living room, bookcase beside the tv, top shelf all the way on the left," he instructed, and I followed his direction.

My eyes perused his movie collection as I reached for the one in question—only a couple of shelves, but included Jurassic Park, Indiana Jones, and Star Wars as well as Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit. "Clearly, you have some good taste in movies, but not overly expansive."

I flipped the case around toward the camera to show him, making sure I was grabbing the right one. "Yes, that's it, but you're welcome to grab all three of them, if you'd like. Never know, you might like it and not want to wait for me to get home. And those are just some of my favorites, not the only ones I own."

"I only agreed to one, Edward. Even _if_ I like it, I can wait. And if these are such favorites, why haven't you suggested them for any of our movie nights?" I inquired curiously while locking his door and returning to my apartment.

The camera shook again when Jasper returned to sit beside him, and there was a mischievous grin on his face. "There were movie nights, Edward? Really?"

Edward elbowed his brother with an annoyed look before speaking again. "Okay, how about you go get all set up and grab your iPad, and you can buzz me back when you are ready to start?"

"Okay, I'll only be a few minutes."

Once he agreed and the screen went black, I sat back in thought for a moment. That was the most laid back, casual conversation we'd had in weeks. I'd admit that it didn't really make me miss him any less, but it was nice to feel natural with him rather than awkward and forced. Maybe distance was exactly what we needed for a while.

But I definitely wasn't about to pass up the opportunity to spend time with him for any reason—even if only over FaceTime watching a long-ass movie.

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**EPOV**

"So, movie nights, eh? You didn't mention movie nights, Edward," Jasper taunted as he followed me out to the kitchen once the call had disconnected.

"Piss off, Jasper," I muttered under my breath, not even bothering to disguise my annoyance, and reaching for two beers from the refrigerator. "She would make dinner, since I was living on takeout, and we'd watch movies together as friends. It was nothing more than that."

"Until it clearly _was_," Jasper replied, popping the tops off the bottles and taking one for himself. "Is that why you're really here?"

My eyes darted toward him at his question, his knowing gaze fixed on me, raising his eyebrows as he took a long pull off his beer. I sighed heavily and shook my head. "I came here for Charlotte's christening. Rumor has it that the godfather is a pretty important part of the event, or so I've been told."

Returning to the living room and checking the iPad to make sure I hadn't missed Bella's call yet, I heard Jasper's sarcastic laugh follow me. "Edward, we've been planning this christening for months, and with contingencies in place, considering it might not have been possible for you to take the time away from work. While I can't say that I'm not thrilled to have had you here for this, up until a few days ago, you had all but confirmed that you weren't going to be able to make it. International flights are steep, even with more than two days' notice. So, what's _really_ going on?"

I wasn't prepared to answer that question just yet, as even _my_ brain hadn't thoroughly sorted it out. I knew what I felt for Bella and with a fair amount of confidence could say that she had expressed a near equal level of emotion and desire in return when I had kissed her. Yet, I wasn't able to embrace it. My fear, and worse, my guilt had taken over, and neither of those things did I _ever_ want to feel with her. She wasn't the cause of my fear, nor was kissing her, necessarily—just my own ridiculous insecurities and "what ifs".

"So, it _is_ like that, isn't it?" Jasper broke the extended silence, but I didn't respond to him directly. Apparently, my sigh as we settled onto the couch was answer enough. "Home shouldn't be where you run to escape your problems."

I shook my head in response, my eyes flickering toward the iPad again, finding the screen still black. "I'm not escaping, Jasper, I'm processing. There's a difference."

"And you needed around eight thousand kilometers of distance to 'process'?" he asked, giving me a skeptical look. "This isn't about…_her_, is it?"

"No," I answered immediately, but then leaned my head back. "Not really, anyway. I know Bella is nothing like that, but she's also the best thing that's come into my life in so long. She's probably the best friend I have in this world right now, and she's also my landlord. It complicates things. I care so much about her, and I don't want to hurt her by going into something more without being absolutely certain I'm ready for that. There's so much more at stake than just another potentially failed relationship."

"Like what?" Jasper asked with a casual shrug. He never was one to beat around the bush.

I sat up straight and looked over at him. "All right, how about the most obvious? Say we are in a relationship and years down the road, I have the desire to return to England, and she wants to remain in the States? That's either going to be one hell of a long-distance relationship that will have no possibility for growth, let alone marriage or a family, or one of us will be forced to sacrifice if we want to stay together."

"Or," Jasper continued from where I left off. "Maybe you're only thinking of the worst-case scenario because of a singular prior experience. And to be honest, that would pretty much eliminate any possibility of you being in _any_ relationship whatsoever for as long as you're over there. Which as much as I miss you and wish you weren't so far away, you're happy there. I don't see you coming back for more than visits every now and then, but if you did, you're only allowing yourself to assume that she wouldn't want to come with you. You're denying yourself the prospect of happiness, and for what?"

I set my beer on the coffee table and folded my hands together, my eyes closing as my head bent forward. "You only saw a small portion of what I actually have to lose tonight."

"And a whole hell of a lot that you have to gain," Jasper just barely managed to get out before the tone of an incoming call sounded from the iPad, and then tapped his temple with his finger and mouthed, "Think about it."

"What do you think I've _been_ doing?" I rasped and answered the call, a smile stretching across my face as I spotted Bella seated on her couch. She'd changed into a black tank top and a white pair of shorts and had a giant bowl of popcorn in her lap.

"I've got my provisions. Let's do this."


	13. Chapter 13

**BPOV**

"Okay…why are we whispering?" I asked, mimicking the aforementioned whisper.

And so began my running commentary on The Lord of the Rings as we all settled in and pressed play on our respective ends of the video chat. I had to admit, the music was stellar and hauntingly beautiful, but the woman's voice was chilling, and to be honest, a little creepy.

…_but they were all of them deceived, for another ring was made._

"Of course, there was. Why wouldn't there be?" I remarked and heard Jasper's chuckle in the background.

_In the land of Mordor, in the fires of Mount Doom, the Dark Lord Sauron forged, in secret, a Master Ring to control all others…_

"There's always that one psycho, power-hungry control freak, right? What would a story be without one big, ultimate evil trying to destroy everything in existen…What in the actual fuck is _that_, and why does it look like it's nose had a bad run in with a stapler or something?" I exclaimed, only gasping more as each consecutive creature got progressively uglier.

Edward cleared his throat to disguise his laughter, and I tore my eyes away from the television long enough to shoot him a glare. "Those are orcs, love. And it's eventually explained why they look that way. Now, hush and just watch."

"You're the one that wanted commentary, so _you_ hush," I retorted, popping a piece of popcorn into my mouth for effect, and then returned my attention to the screen.

I honestly thought it would be harder to focus on the story, since that kind of fantasy had never quite been my thing. Yet, the pacing through what was apparently thousands of years of history actually kept me engaged.

Then, we got to the "present".

I thought for sure I was annoying both of the guys as I remarked on the hobbits and how adorable they were, despite their nasty, furry feet, how illegal it should be for anyone to have eyes as beautiful as Frodo's, and how absolutely _precious_ Sam was.

The instant Bilbo disappeared from sight, however, I was stunned into silence for several minutes, until my darling Sam was pulled through the window.

…_that is I heard a good deal about a ring, and a Dark Lord, and something about the end of the world…_

"Oh, that's _all_, Sam?" I chuckled, shaking my head. "Oh god, I love him."

"Just wait," Jasper said with a dramatic edge to his voice, and I glanced at the chat window to find Edward nodding in agreement.

"Oh, don't you jackasses tell me that I'm gonna end up hating Sam, because I will turn this movie off right the fuck now," I stated in a harsh whisper, remembering that there were young children somewhere nearby on the other end, and I had no idea how far my voice would carry through the house.

Edward rolled his eyes and shook his head. "I promise, you won't hate Sam."

"I better not," I grumbled under my breath as I adjusted my position on the couch to lay on my side, propping my head up on my hand.

After a while, it seemed that Edward and his brother were finding more entertainment in my reactions and comments than in the movie itself. To be fair, I found them a bit surprising as well, but the movie was nothing like I expected it to be. Gorgeous scenery, a perfect combination of story, action, and even a sprinkling of comedy here and there—"what about second breakfast?"—and a myriad of characters that, while a score card might be needed to keep track of them all, were nonetheless interesting.

Before I knew it, more than two hours had passed, and I was cursing at my screen. "How many freakin' times are they going to stab this one little hobbit? Damn! You can't kill the main character! Come on!"

Less than ten minutes later, though, I was screaming "No!" right along with Frodo, and tears were pooling in my eyes after Gandalf let go of the ledge.

"What the fuck! How do you kill off Gandalf? They need him! Shut up, you jerks," I ranted as I reached for the box of tissues I had on my end table, as the guys were not even attempting to hide their laughter that time. "I hate you both for doing this to me, and there's still more than an hour to go. I should stop this thing right now. Oh god, no, don't show me crying hobbits. That's not fair!"

I listened to them and kept watching, against my better judgement, and my commentary continued to amuse them.

…"Oh, was that some shade from the elf, Gimli? Burn! Gandalf _told_ you that going through Moria was stupid!"

…"I'm with Aragorn here, dude. Men can't be trusted with the ring. That's already been proven."

…"Damn this music is fantastic. I really need this soundtrack immediately."

…"Shit shit shit, where's Frodo? Oh noooo, that's Boromir's shield!"

…"First Boromir, now you, Aragorn? Come on, you're supposed to be stronger than that. Don't do it! Oh shit, it's talking to you. No no no…oh thank god. Wait, what? How the hell are you going to protect him if he's off running? What…the…fuck…one dude can't take on all that! Is Aragorn going to bite it now, too?"

…"_Every_ goddamned movie, Sean Bean? Are you _serious_?"

…"Sam, you clearly don't comprehend the meaning of the words 'going alone'. What are you doing? No, Sam! Not you, too! Don't you fucking drown!"

Tears were streaming down my face in a constant flow by that point, and my coffee table had a few balls of crumbled tissue scattered across it. I grabbed another one as Sam made his little speech about his promise after Frodo saved him, and grumbled at Edward and Jasper, who were surprisingly quiet at the moment. "It's a good thing I keep a box of these beside my couch at all times. You didn't warn me that there would be tears! I don't think there's been a more perfect character _ever_ than Sam."

The two men silently nodded along but were clearly engrossed in what was happening on the screen for the time being. Before I knew it, the other three were off to find the other two hobbits, Frodo and Sam were headed to Mordor, and the credits were rolling.

"Excuse me, what? That's it? You can't just leave it there. That was not…are you kidding me? Nearly thirty minutes just for the _credits_? They could have fit a whole lot more movie in that time," I exclaimed, throwing my box of tissues across the room at the television.

"I'm under the impression that you liked it then?" Edward said, and my attention was drawn back to the iPad and his face. "I don't think I've ever heard you talk so much through _any_ movie we've watched together."

I narrowed my eyes at him, attempting to compose myself and form an expression of nonchalance, unwilling to fully admit to anything of the sort—especially with the smug smile he was currently sporting. "It was okay, but you wanted commentary, so I was only obliging. However, I think I would agree with your sister-in-law. Your niece is _way_ too young for that."

"Women!" I heard Jasper sigh exasperatedly, followed by another laugh and the sound of beer bottles clanging. "You loved it, admit it!"

I could feel my lips twitching with the urge to smile, and once I saw the crinkles deepening at the corners of Edward's eyes, I lost the battle. "Okay, yes, I did like it. It was a little slow at times, but it was not as boring as I thought it would be."

"Yes, she's been converted, Jasper!" Edward called out as he rose from the couch and began moving through the house. I couldn't quite make out his brother's responses to him or to my insistence that "converted" was not exactly the right term, so I assumed he was heading in the opposite direction.

My assumption was proven right when I heard a door open and close, causing the screen to go almost completely black. The sound of shuffling filled the speakers, and with a click, Edward was illuminated again by a table lamp, and his head was resting on a pillow with an arm bent beneath it.

"You can be honest. I won't force you to watch the other two if you don't truly want to. Truthfully, I didn't expect you to agree with watching one tonight. I was only teasing," he said softly, and I watched as _my_ Edward fully reappeared.

Not that I minded the carefree and even slightly obnoxious persona he seemed to have with his brother; it just wasn't what I was accustomed to.

"Are you just trying to get out of your end of the agreement, mister?" I teased, coaxing a soft laugh and denial from him and watching as his exhaustion became more noticeable as he relaxed into the bed. "I'm glad we did this, though. It was fun, and I'll admit that I'm interested enough to want to at least watch the next one. That's as far as I'll go for now."

Edward's smile grew a little, quirking one corner of his mouth a little more than the other. "You're still welcome to grab the others from my shelf. I don't mind at all."

Shaking my head, I felt that sharp twist in my heart again. It was starting to make its presence known all too often for me lately, but there was nothing I could do about it. Yet, now that we didn't have an additional audience, I also didn't feel the need to keep up as much of a bravado anymore, either. "No, I can wait. I had fun, but it wasn't the same. I missed having you here."

I heard Edward's sigh, but as I'd already lowered my eyes, I didn't see his facial expression. The seconds of silence felt like hours, and I mentally scolded myself—_making him feel guilty is not exactly giving him space to think, Bella._ His next words halted time altogether for a moment, though. "I miss you, too, Bella. So much."

.

.

.

I thought the first two days of Edward being away was difficult, but I clearly hadn't taken into account how much that could increase just by indulging in that experience with him, even virtually. Hearing his laugh, seeing his smile, and then to top it all off, the sound of his voice as he spoke those words in barely above a whisper.

_I miss you, too, Bella. So much._

My mind had been stirring for hours after I finally had to let him go so that he could sleep, while my day was still barely half over—damn time zones. If I'd ever had any doubts about my feelings about him before, they had completely evaporated now.

Edward was part of me. I didn't want to say that I _could_ not live without him, but it definitely _was_ a prospect that was wholly undesirable to me. Whatever the future held for me, I wanted him to be in it. My heart was his in a way it hadn't ever belonged to anyone else, and likely never would again. I loved him to the very core of my being.

Now, I could only hope that he felt even a fraction of that for me in return.

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**EPOV**

Despite my thorough level of exhaustion that had been present even before we sat down to watch the movie, and even with the struggle to stay awake while talking to Bella for a bit afterward, my sleep was fitful. I dreamed that I was back in Washington, sitting on Bella's couch with her in my arms, snuggled up to my side.

I could even smell her shampoo, wafting up from her hair as her head lay on my chest, and feel the warmth of her body against me. I noticed nothing else around us, but as she tilted her face up to look at me, and I was just about to meet her lips with mine, I woke with a start. She wasn't there, and I found myself far from where I wanted to be at that moment—alone in the cold, empty bed of my childhood bedroom.

Every time I closed my eyes over the next several hours, she was there, only to vanish again when they opened. By four a.m., I just resolved to stay awake and do exactly what I'd come all that way to do in the first place—think.

Yet why was I over-analyzing something that should really be quite simple? Bella meant the world to me, and I was happier when we were together than I could ever remember being in all eight years of my relationship with Chelsea.

I also couldn't deny that Jasper had been right the night before. As much as I loved and missed my family and England, the likelihood of my permanent return anytime in the near or distant future was slim to none. My home was now in Washington, and Bella was far more than my landlord, which was also becoming nothing more than a lame excuse.

She really was the best part of my life, and kissing her, while being the closest thing to heaven I thought I could ever experience, brought that realization to the forefront. Although I supposed I had loved Chelsea in some capacity, enough to spend eight years of my life with her, we never shared the level of closeness and companionship that was the core of my relationship with Bella. It had hurt when Chelsea and I had parted ways, yet even after nearly a decade together, it hadn't been as devastating as it probably should have been. My trust had been shattered by her far more than my heart ever was.

However, just the _thought_ of Bella someday deciding that I was not what she truly wanted anymore hurt a thousand times worse, and we hadn't shared anything more physically intimate than that one kiss. Sure, the attraction between us was strong, but did we want the same things? In every other way, the age difference between us didn't matter one bit and rarely did I even think about it. Yet, there were certain times where it needed to be taken into account. Whereas I was already in my thirties, established in my career, and ready for the next stage of my life, was she? Halfway through her twenties, she was still finding her footing both within her profession and life as a whole, but did that necessarily mean that she wasn't ready for a substantial relationship?

"My God, man. You're still overthinking it all, aren't you?" Jasper asked when he entered the kitchen the next morning with Charlotte in his arms and Sophie trailing close behind.

"Overthinking what? And you, watch your language," my mother interjected, her eyes fixed directly on me after I'd muttered a vaguely profane response to my brother. She waved her spatula in the direction of the two girls and then turned back around to resume preparing breakfast.

Jasper grinned triumphantly at me, and I discreetly used my middle finger to rub my temple, causing him to laugh before turning to answer our mother. "Edward's friend over stateside. Seems there might be a little more than friendship going on there."

She glanced over her shoulder at me, her bright green eyes glinting and the lines around them deepening with her smile. "Is that right?"

"Mum," I responded with a sigh but was momentarily distracted by Sophie attempting to climb into my lap. Once I'd lifted her up, she wrapped her tiny arms around my neck and gave me a kiss on the cheek, and I blew a small raspberry on hers, her giggles filled the kitchen, and as she settled to sit on my leg, I kissed the top of her head. When I glanced up again, both my mother and brother looked identical with their matching expressions and smiles. "You're just as bad as he is, Mother."

"Is it really so horrible for me to want to see my baby happy and settled, maybe even with little ones of his own?" she asked almost wistfully, plating up the food and carrying it to the table, her gaze lingering on my niece seated on my lap.

"She has a point, Edward," Jasper commented, sliding Charlotte into her highchair. "You're not getting any younger, and I was already married and a dad by your age, nearly with another one on the way."

I rolled my eyes, exhaling heavily. "I'm hardly teetering on an expiration date, Jasper, but I also didn't have my soulmate practically attached to my hip at the age of ten, either."

Our mother shot a disapproving look toward Jasper and sat in the chair beside me, resting her hand on my arm. "We're not judging you, love. And I had a feeling there was more than friendly inclinations toward this young woman, just by the way you would talk about her when we spoke. You're both single, so there's nothing wrong with that. Is something else holding you back? Does she not feel the same?"

I closed my eyes to block out my brother's smirk and then rubbed my hand over my face roughly. "No, that's not it. I just needed some time to think and get my head together."

"Sometimes thinking too much causes more problems than it solves in the end," my mother said, taking hold of my hand and pulling it away from my face. "Things like this require a leap of faith, Edward. You can't let one bad experience cast a shadow over everything, and she sounds like a lovely girl from all you've told me about her."

Jasper started chuckling, and both of us shifted our gazes over to him, though mine was closer to a glare. He shook his head as he stood at the counter, preparing Charlotte's cereal, as she beat her tiny hands on the tray of the highchair and bounced excitedly. "What? I'm not disagreeing. On the contrary, I actually liked her a lot. She's cute and funny, and sure doesn't take any of your…stuff."

"Why would Bella take your stuff? That's not very nice," Sophie chimed in, unconsciously bringing some much-needed levity to the moment in response to her father attempting to edit himself in front of the kids. We needed to take a moment to restrain our chuckles, which only confused her more.

"Figure of speech, sweetheart. Bella doesn't take any of my stuff," I replied, kissing her temple as that seemed to satisfy her and she resumed eating the scrambled eggs her grandmother had made for her. Then, I turned my attention back to my mother and brother. "Jasper, we talked about this last night. You know my reasons."

"And I also know that nearly every one of them is a line of bollocks," Jasper replied, only mouthing the last word while our mother surprisingly remained quiet and just listened. "When you actually let yourself just be in the moment without dissecting absolutely _everything_, you were the happiest I have ever seen you. Yeah, good friends can be like that, too, and if that was all either of you wanted, that would be fine. But it's not, and you know it. It was as clear to see with her last night as it is with you right this second."

I heard Mum sigh softly beside me and turned my head to look at her, and her eyes held an expression I couldn't define. "Darling, we can't tell you what to do. This is a decision that only the two of you can make. Any relationship carries its share of risks, and I know how much you value Bella's friendship. Your father and I struggled with the same uncertainty after ten years of a very close friendship before we decided to take things any further with one another. If this woman makes you happy, and she cares for you as much as you obviously care for her, that seems like a chance that could be worth taking."

Jasper settled into the chair in front of Charlotte with a clear "I told you so" look in his eye before turning his attention to feeding his daughter.

"Done!" Sophie announced, dropping her fork into the bowl and throwing her hands in the air, narrowly missing the side of my face, and then looked up at me. "Harry Potter now, please."

"Sophie, let Uncle Edward finish his own breakfast while you go wake up Mummy," Jasper reprimanded but finished his statement sharing a smirk with her. Within a minute of Sophie sliding off my lap and making her way upstairs, he began counting down. "In three, two…"

"Jasper William Henry Cullen!" Alice's voice echoed through the ceiling, and we all began chuckling.

"All four names this time. Must have been quite an evening out," Jasper chortled without a hint of regret until our father walked in, rubbing his ear and glaring at Jasper. "Sorry, Dad."

My mother ran a gentle hand over my hair as she rose to greet Dad and fix him a plate. I quietly watched them as I began eating my own breakfast, marveling at the love that still radiated between them after nearly thirty-five years of marriage. They'd always told us while growing up that being friends for so long beforehand was what they attributed the success of their relationship to.

_The foundation was already laid, and we only needed to build on what was there_, they'd say, and that much showed. My mother didn't take care of my father because it was expected of her as a wife; she truly wanted to and enjoyed it. And he never took it for granted, still thanking her with a kiss on the cheek, just as he had when we were kids.

The same went for Alice and Jasper, despite her current displeasure with him as she entered the kitchen with Sophie in tow. He lifted off the chair in between bites for Charlotte to peck her lips with his, and though she put up a good fight to stay mad at him, we all caught the tiny smile on her face as she went about making her tea.

Each of them had taken the same risks I was now agonizing over and come out the better for it. Perhaps I really was just thinking too much, and as much as I wanted to deny it and hated myself for it, letting what happened with Chelsea cloud my judgement more than I thought when it came to Bella. Denying myself, and her, of something that had the potential of being just as wonderful as what was filling the room around me. The concerns about losing Bella as a friend seemed a bit farfetched, when I thought about it, given how she was still there without fail, even after I'd been a moody asshole.

All throughout the time I spent with Sophie watching that Harry Potter movie—which I would admit wasn't half bad—and the subsequent hour and a half she spent fast asleep on my lap, my thoughts were never far from Bella. She and I needed to talk, and I had barely started my two-week stay with my family. I didn't want to cut that time short, unsure of when I'd be able to come back for another visit, but it was definitely going to make the time move a little slower.

Then, around five that evening, as if she somehow knew I was thinking about her, I felt my phone buzz in my pocket. I looked to find a text from Bella.

_This is entirely your fault and I may never forgive you for this._

I was momentarily confused, hoping that maybe she had mistakenly texted me with a message intended for someone else. Then an image popped up, and I barked out a laugh, drawing the attention of everyone in the room, but I only turned my phone toward Jasper, and he joined in. It was a photo of a shrink-wrapped, extended edition set of the Lord of the Rings movies.

_You could have just borrowed mine if you were that anxious. But I thought you were going to wait?_

_It left me hanging! 11 days is a long time to wait, Edward!_

I sighed as I read her text. _Tell me about it, _I thought.


End file.
